Existential Crisis
by MosaicCreme
Summary: Thane learns about the woman, Jane, behind the title of Commander Shepard. She confides in him, sharing her fears, hopes, dreams, and her grief for a part of her lost somewhere over Alchera. Together they save his son from making a grave mistake, and somewhere along the way, he realizes he's fallen in love with another siha.
1. Trouble Sleeping

**Trouble Sleeping**

Unable to sleep, Thane found himself sitting in the middle of the floor meditating—or at least attempting to. It didn't appear to be working for him, a rare occurrence, but not completely unheard of. The soft, everpresent hum of the ship's mass effect core somehow both soothed and agitated him. Perhaps it agitated him _because_ it soothed him. He wasn't quite certain. It did also act as a noise dampener, which, for an assassin, was only beneficial when one was trying not to be heard and not when one must listen. It wasn't that he didn't trust Commander Shepard or her intentions in hunting the collectors, it only took him but a few moments to verify her claims of entire human colonies going missing, but she was, after all, in the company of a terrorist group with known anti-alien sentiments—one which also appeared to have no compunction against performing gruesome experiments on living beings. Or dead ones, for that matter, if indeed the rumors were true and Cerberus had brought Shepard back from Kalahira's distant shores.

The woman had come to speak with him after recruiting him, while he settled into the room so aptly titled 'Life Support'. The irony that it should house a dying man seemed lost on her, or, perhaps she merely wasn't as comfortable acknowledging death as she was causing it, though she did ask him about his illness and made him the offer of access to the ship's medic. At least he wasn't expected to spend his time in the Crew Quarters with the Cerberus personnel. After meeting Shepard's yeoman, Kelly Chambers, he didn't doubt that not all of the Cerberus agents aboard the ship were as vile as the reputation of being associated with Cerberus afforded them, but he did doubt the majority of them would be as comfortable in his presence as was Ms. Chambers. An interesting, enthusiastic woman, indeed.

There were several other non-humans aboard the _Normandy_ , but he'd yet to have the opportunity to speak to them, outside of the brief few words spoken to the turian and salarian who accompanied Shepard to Dantius Towers. He learned a young krogan—grown in a tank as a part of an experiment to create the perfect krogan—took up residence in the Port Cargo one deck below. He'd been told an asari Justicar was also recruited from Illium for the collector mission, or, as he'd heard others refer to it: the suicide mission—an apt name. He wondered what the Justicar might think of him and his profession, wondered if her oath to Shepard would truly prevent her from deciding him deserving of a swift end as per her Code. He might welcome her judgement, it'd be a fitting death, but he, too, had promised to aid Shepard on her mission to defeat the collectors.

"Thane?" A soft, feminine voice filled Life Support, the sound carrying with it the faintest hints of synthetic frequencies.

 _Ah, the ship's AI._

He didn't bother to open his eyes since she had no face for him to gaze upon while speaking. "Yes, EDI?"

"My databases suggest drell need a minimum of four hours of sleep for optimal functioning." There was a slight pause in which it seemed as if she were considering her next words. "Shepard is likewise still awake, though she often ignores the standard recommendation of a minimum of five hours for humans. Her cybernetics help to offset the damage done to her physiology due to minor sleep deprivation, however. Should I inform Shepard that you are still awake and will not have met the minimum sleep requirements for your species, as such making you unfit for duty when we arrive on Haestrom?"

"Ah. No. Thank you, EDI, but that will not be necessary. My training has taught me how to accommodate erratic sleeping patterns and, as you say, remain capable of optimal functioning." Thane opened his eyes, glancing at the green glow of his unlocked door—the locking mechanism was so insignificant, he didn't see the point in bothering. "Though, I am curious as to why the commander is still awake."

"I do not believe she would wish for me to discuss her personal affairs, but she is in the mess hall, if you'd like to ask her yourself," EDI said.

"She's not in her cabin?" Thane's brow ridge twitched, curiosity tugging at the corners of his battle sleep.

"No, she is making herself some tea: chamomile. It is reported to aid in sleep. Perhaps she would be willing to share. Shall I ask?" EDI sounded almost pleased by the prospect.

"I see. No, thank you, EDI." He pushed himself to his feet. "I believe I will go see for myself."

"As you wish," said EDI. "Logging you out."

Thane left Life Support, stopping in the hall just outside the door and cocked his head to the side, listening to the soft sounds of metal clanging against metal drifting back to him from the mess hall. Tucking his hands behind his back, he moved towards the noise, rounding the elevator and stopped. Shepard stood behind the counter, turning on a burner beneath a kettle. Red hair tucked up in a haphazard ponytail, she wore only a tank top and form-fitting black pants which cutoff just below the knee. The fading scars he'd seen previously over her face and forearms extended over the rest of her exposed flesh, evidence of Cerberus' machinations to resurrect her. She sighed, leaning back against the serving island and tilted her head back, staring up at the ceiling. She didn't appear to be aware of his presence, so he brought his fist to his mouth and gently coughed.

Her emerald gaze snapped to him, something just as deadly and dangerous as himself flashing through her eyes for but a second. She blinked, a slow smile crossing her face. "Thane, hey. Trouble sleeping?"

"Indeed." Dipping his head in agreement, he tucked his hand back behind him once more.

"Want some tea? It's chamomile, suppose to help you sleep." She pointed to a small box sitting on the counter next to her.

He took slow steps closer, gauging her reaction to his approach. She didn't seem bothered by his proximity, despite knowing what he did for a living, he supposed it made a certain kind of sense. After all, she also killed for a living, it was just for a more socially acceptable profession. He was no threat to her, either way, of course. He'd sworn his arm to her, but most he'd met outside of other assassins didn't seem to understand the weight of such a contract. Indeed, most feared an assassin, avoided them at all costs, as if an assassin might just randomly decide to kill them—without provocation or contract. It was irrational.

He picked up the box, turning it over in his hand to read the label before placing it back on the counter. "You do not sound convinced of its usefulness."

She let out a soft chuckle, the sound drawing his attention back to her fully. "It use to help. When I was a kid, and the biggest thing keeping me up at night was test anxiety." She shrugged. "I still drink it when I'm having trouble sleeping anyway. The ritual of it is comforting, even if it still leaves me wide awake."

The answer took him by surprise, bringing a smile to his face. "Indeed. I suppose much greater concerns trouble your mind now."

The kettle began to let out a whistle, the sound starting soft but swiftly growing in pitch. She pushed off the counter, removing it from the heat source before it became uncomfortably loud and turned off the burner. Opening a cabinet, she pulled down a cup and turned to him, holding it up and raising an eyebrow in question. He smiled again and dipped his head. She returned his smile and turned away from him, gathering together two cups, two saucers, and the box of tea. He watched her as she opened the box, retrieving two, small bags and placed one in each cup before pouring the hot water over the satchels of fragrant tea.

She moved the cups over to the island counter, setting them on saucers, and turned back to the cabinet, pulling down a small canister. "Do you like your tea sweetened? I don't normally, but for chamomile … it's how my mother use to make it …."

"Then I will, as well," he said.

She glanced up, meeting his gaze, her eyes holding a gentleness he found oddly startling. Smiling, she looked down at a drawer, opening it and retrieving spoons. "You don't have to sweeten yours just because I intend to sweeten mine. Taste it first, then decide. It needs a couple of minutes to steep, though." Moving back to the counter, she picked up her cup, balancing the canister and the spoons in her other hand. "Sit with me?" she asked, nodding her head towards the tables.

"As you wish." Thane picked up the tea meant for him, wrapping his palm around the warm surface of the cup, and moved to the tables with her. He waited for her to take a seat before sitting across from her.

Using a spoon, she dipped the tea bag in and out of the water, offering him the other to do the same. "So, what's keeping you up?"

"I …" He took the spoon from her, staring into his tea as he fished the satchel out of the pale, yellow liquid. "I'm afraid I'm not certain."

She hummed, drawing his attention back to her. "Me neither." Smirking when she glanced up, she shrugged. "That's not entirely true, but I won't burden you with the woes of my existential crisis."

"It would be no burden," he said, though he wasn't entirely certain what prompted him to do so. He supposed it was merely the polite thing to say, especially to a woman responsible for leading him into battle. It'd be interesting, following her. So many years had passed since he last took orders, and never on a battlefield such as the ones she'd likely introduce him to. It occurred to him, some part of him looked forward to the new experience.

She smiled, raising the satchel from her cup and squeezing it against the spoon with her fingers before setting it on the saucer. "You really want to know?"

"Indeed." He realized he did, in fact, want to know. Mimicking her actions, he removed the bag of tea leaves from his cup and squeezed the excess liquid out against the spoon.

"Hmm." She picked up the canister, of what he assumed to be the sugar humans used for sweetness, and upended it over her cup, watching the stream of fine, white granules pour through a spout built into the top. "I'm sure you've heard by now that I died when the old _Normandy_ was attacked, and Cerberus brought me back?" She raised an eyebrow, meeting his gaze once more as she started to stir her tea.

He dipped his head, picking up his cup and breathing in the floral scent before blowing across the steaming surface. He took a sip, cautious of the heat before setting the cup back down, rolling the tea over his tongue before swallowing and reaching for the sugar. He wasn't especially fond of sweet things, but neither was he opposed to them, and he wanted the glimpse into her reality he felt the shared ritual might bring.

She took a deep breath. "Sometimes … I'm not sure if I'm really alive. I don't remember being dead, don't remember an afterlife of any kind. So … maybe this _is_ the afterlife. And if it is, what does it say about the kind of person I am that my eternity will be spent fighting wars? Killing and watching people die?" Propping her elbows on either side of her saucer, she raised her cup, holding it just in front of her mouth as she continued to speak, "Otherwise, I am alive, there is no Heaven or Hell, and I've only been brought back so I can die again, sacrificing myself for a galaxy that refuses to hear the warnings I've given them about what's to come."

Thane blinked, lifting his cup to his mouth again to buy himself a moment to process her words. He wasn't sure what he expected, but she surprised him yet again. Something so little—so few—were able to manage. The sugar worked to bring out the more subtle flavors within the tea, he savored the taste on his tongue and carefully returned his cup to the saucer. "I have read some of the works by human philosophers. There is much to be said about proving one's own existence, and the existence of God, but I'm afraid I've never read anything about proving whether or not one is truly alive or in the afterlife. I wonder what would convince you of the reality of your circumstances if flesh and bone and blood are not enough."

She sighed. "It might be, if I had any reason to believe I wouldn't perceive my body just the same in Heaven or Hell."

He chuckled, she made a fair point. "What of your friends? The turian, Garrus, he was with you on the old _Normandy_ … do you perceive him to be worthy of an afterlife filled with such torments?"

She seemed to consider that for a moment, giving him a slow shake of her head. "No … but if you asked him, I'm almost positive he'd say he does."

"If you are indeed still dead, what of me?" He tilted his head a little, watching her with curiosity as a flood of different emotions washed over her face.

"Oh, no. I didn't mean … I'm not saying I think you'd deserve …." Her cheeks reddened.

He chuckled. "I only meant I have no doubts of being alive. I went into Dantius Towers prepared to embrace death, ready to cross the sea. I know I have not, a ship filled with a motley crew of aliens is not what awaits me."

She arched an eyebrow. "How can you be sure?"

"She—" He lowered his gaze, staring into his tea, seeing Irikah's face in the still surface. Swallowing, he bit back the memories before they could overtake him and tried again. "Whether to welcome me into her arms, or punish me for my sins, either way, there is only one person I can ever expect to see once I cross the sea."

Silence stretched between them, and he could feel the weight of her gaze on him for a long moment. His chest ached, the loss of Irikah felt so acutely despite his battle sleep, the one thing which could penetrate his barrier so completely.

"The drell believe in a goddess who will carry them from this life to the next, right?" Shepard's voice broke the silence, soft and filled with an understanding he didn't wish to examine.

He looked up, brow ridges raising. "Kalahira, yes. I confess, I did not expect you to be familiar with drell religion."

She smirked, taking a sip of her tea. "Up until about two or three hours after you came aboard, I wasn't." Letting out a soft huff of laughter, no doubt at his expense, triggered by the look of shock on his face, she added, "I've never met a drell before." She twitched her head to the side, cheeks starting to redden once more. "I was curious."

"Indeed?" He propped his elbows on the table, clasping his hands together in front of him. "And what did you learn?"

"Not nearly as much as I'd have liked." She turned sideways on the bench, resting her back against the wall. "Most of what I found revolved around the relationship between the drell and the hanar. Something about some sort of traditional agreement between you species as repayment for their rescuing you from your homeworld … the Compact?"

"Yes, those families holding to the Compact swear themselves into servitude. It is an honor; just as the hanar did for us what we could not do for ourselves, we do for the hanar that which they cannot." Thane waved a hand. "I myself was given to the hanar at the age of six. My training, skills, all that I am was given to me through the Compact."

"Six?" Her brows pulled in, creating waves along her forehead. "Jesus."

"This troubles you?" He'd anticipated as much, it always seemed to disturb others of different species when they learned of the age at which the Compact took in drell children for training in the various tasks they would spend their lives performing in service to the hanar. Some even compared it to slavery, insulting and narrow-minded.

"You were just a child … did you even have a choice?" She asked, her words threatening to trigger memories of Irikah once more. Then, she held up a hand, palm out. "No, wait. I'm sorry. I don't mean to question your culture, it's just taking me a minute to wrap my head around it, is all."

He hummed, wondering if there'd be a time when she no longer surprised him. "Indeed. To answer your question, anyone can refuse to serve, but few do, it would have been for my parents to decide whether or not I was to be a part of the Compact. No, I wasn't precisely given a choice, but neither did I want for one. It truly was an honor, I was proud to serve the hanar however they required of me. Later, as an adult, I did … request to be excused from the Compact so that I might pursue … other avenues in life."

"Do you regret leaving?" she asked, tracing the rim of her cup with a fingertip before picking it up. "I mean, whatever other avenues you explored, you went back to being an assassin."

"I found my particular skill set doesn't translate well into other professions." He gave her a wry smile. "The only jobs I could find were menial labor, I'm afraid my pride wasn't able to withstand the harsh treatments of those who viewed themselves superior to me but whom I knew I could kill in an instant. I had difficulty holding on to jobs, struggled to support … the pay was inadequate. Eventually, I turned to freelancing. I admit, it felt good to put my skills to use once more, to take contracts which challenged me and fed my ego. Though I now wish my ego mattered a little less, I do not regret leaving the Compact. The experiences the freedom allowed me … I wouldn't trade them for anything."

"No guilt? No regrets about your profession at all?" She raised an eyebrow, and he searched her gaze, finding only curiosity.

"No—not about being an assassin in particular." He turned his hand over, gesturing as he talked, watching the way her gaze tracked his movements despite never leaving his face. "Drell minds work very differently from humans. We accept that our body is nothing more than a vessel and is not always under our control."

"What do you mean?" She took a drink from her tea and then moved the cup to cradle against her chest as she watched him.

"My body is a tool, my reflexes honed to kill by the hanar." He waved a hand at nothing in particular. "When I accept a contract, it is not I—not my soul—who makes the kill, but a tool wielded by those who hired me."

She pursed her lips a little, narrowing her eyes. "But … it's not your _body_ that accepted the contract, or decides _which_ contracts _to_ accept." Bringing the cup back to her lips, she sipped at her tea.

"I—No, I suppose it isn't. But neither is it my soul who has sentenced these targets to death." Feeling oddly shaken by the concepts being discussed … his lack of culpability in the deaths of those he was hired to kill being challenged, he took a drink of his tea, turning her words over in his mind. "It is one benefit afforded me as a freelancer: I choose my own contracts, and I choose those whose deaths will leave the galaxy a brighter place." He took another drink of his tea, finding it already quite a bit cooler than when they first sat down. "What else did you learn about the drell in your research?"

A wide grin crossed her mouth. "Uh, let's see. You live to be about eighty-five galactic standard years. Levo omnivorous, so no special dietary needs I should be concerned about. You produce venom, which confused me initially." She let out a light laugh, taking a sip of her tea. "To a human, something is considered venomous when it delivers a toxin through a bite or a sting—injecting it into the victim, and poisonous when it produces a toxin along its body. Basically, the old saying goes, 'If you bite it and you die, it's poisonous. If it bites you and you die, it's venomous.'"

Thane chuckled. "Indeed, but drell are both. Our saliva, particularly the females of our species, carry a higher concentration of the toxin in our saliva. Our evolutionary records suggest we once stored venom in pits within our jaws, capable of being released into prey—or attacking predators—through a bite." He tilted his head to the side in concession. "Now our venom is little more than an irritant to most species, capable of producing mild hallucinations … or causing rashes with prolonged exposure. When we joined the galactic community, salarian scientists were swift in studying the toxin and finding compounds to combat its effects." He smiled, opening his hand. "Asari, however, were quick to harvest our venom, finding profit in most species' tendency to ingest intoxicants for pleasure."

Shepard wrinkled her nose. "Harvest it _how exactly_?"

"Ah. It's not as disturbing as you might imagine." He took a drink from his cup, hiding his smile over the look on her face. "They use a specially designed, highly absorbent material which soaks up the venom when rubbed over a drell's scales. The toxin is then processed to extract any impurities before being sold to bars and other establishments. Drell are, of course, compensated for their contribution."

"Fascinating. Have you ever sold your venom?" she asked with a teasing grin.

Letting out a soft, short laugh, he shook his head. "I have not. Perhaps another benefit to being an assassin: I don't want for credits."

"So, not even when you were doing other jobs?" She cocked an eyebrow, mischievous grin growing.

"No," he said, shaking his head again, "it never crossed my mind, though perhaps I might have once, had it."

She jerked her head towards her shoulder. "I suppose there are worse ways to make credits."

"Indeed." He dipped his head, taking another drink of his tea, finding the cup nearly empty.

Shepard stifled a yawn against the back of her free hand.

"Ah, perhaps the chamomile is helping after all." He started to stand. "I've taken up enough of your time, I'll let you get some sleep."

"No!" The word rushed out of her so fast, so … desperate, it almost startled him as she lunged upright. She composed herself, clearing her throat, a blush rising up her neck. "I mean, you don't have to go. Not for me. I'm enjoying talking with you, but if you're ready to sleep …."

" _Sometimes … I'm not sure if I'm really alive."_

Her words from earlier floated through his mind once more, giving weight to the terror he saw flash through her eyes. Admittedly, he enjoyed their conversation as well, and if his presence brought her some measure of comfort …. He sat back down, dipping his head to her. "As you wish, so long as I'm not keeping you awake."

"You're not." She grimaced, turning her gaze to the cup she held gripped tightly between her hands, knuckles turning white. "It's worse when I'm alone," she said, voice barely above a whisper. "In bed at night, when the ship's quiet and I'm alone with my thoughts … it's so much worse." She swallowed and blinked, and he wasn't entirely certain without her looking at him, but he thought he might've seen the glint of tears to her eyes.

"Perhaps …" He hesitated, choosing his words carefully, reluctant to say anything which might offend her. "... forgive me for saying so, but perhaps you should speak with Ms. Chambers. She is trained to handle these things, surely she has some piece of wisdom to offer you."

Shepard snorted, the sound derisive and filled with frustration. "Why?" she asked, looking up at him again, and indeed, there was a wetness to her eyes. "So she can tell the Illusive Man everything I say the second I leave her alone again?" She shook her head. "Kelly has a good heart, but she's naïve. She really thinks Cerberus is just misunderstood, believes the Illusive Man only has humanity's best interests at heart. She seems exceptionally skilled at deluding herself."

Something inside of Thane relaxed, like a tangled mass of knots being unwound. "I take it you do not share the idea of Cerberus being a beneficial organization?"

She pulled her head back, eyes widening before blinking several times. "Hell no. I know exactly what Cerberus is, what kind of person the Illusive Man is. I'm _not_ a part of Cerberus. The _only_ reason I'm still with them is because both the Alliance and the Council swear there isn't anything they can do about the colonists abductions because they're happening out in the Terminus. Cerberus is the only one willing and able to actually stop this thing … so I'm stuck with them until it's done."

"I confess, I am relieved to hear you say so." He drained the cold tea in his cup. "Shall we reheat the kettle?"

She smiled and nodded, pushing herself up to her feet. He stood, walking with her back over to the kitchen area where she placed the kettle back on the burner and turned the heat on. She turned, putting her back to the counter before pushing her palms against the surface and jumped, pulling herself onto the island to sit with her legs hanging over the edge. He chuckled, finding the behavior highly amusing in its level of inappropriateness and unprofessionalism. She gave him a lopsided grin, and he knew he was seeing the woman behind the mask of command. He wondered how many other people she allowed to see her truth, and it troubled him that some part of him wished to be the only one.

He brushed the thought aside, tucking his hands behind his back. "What will you do once your mission is complete, assuming we survive this 'suicide mission' as I've heard it called?"

She sucked in a deep breath, chest expanding to capacity, and held it. After a moment, she let it out, slow and steady as she spoke, "Go back to the Alliance, if they'll have me. Try again to convince the Council and the rest of the galaxy to prepare for the reaper invasion."

"Ah, yes. The reapers. Tell me about them, I've only heard rumors from mixed sources over the last couple of years." Most of those rumors revolved around Shepard and the ship that attacked the Citadel in 2183, a ship which the Council insisted was a geth construct, but others claimed it to be an actual reaper.

She watched him in silence for a long time, long enough for the kettle to start to let out a low whistle. He turned, removing the kettle from the heat, keeping her in his peripherals as he turned off the burner. After a moment, she slid down from the counter and opened her omni-tool; a few seconds later, his own omni-tool vibrated against his wrist.

She moved closer to him, and he took a step back, giving her room as she picked up the kettle. Turning back to the counter, she picked up the box of tea and started walking back to table. "I'd rather talk about something less depressing, if you don't mind. At least for tonight."

He opened his omni-tool, glancing briefly at the packet of information she'd forwarded to him. It appeared to be a lengthy report on the reapers, undoubtedly every scrap of information and evidence she could find. "If you'd like," he said, following her back to the table. He'd read the report in depth at a later time.


	2. Painful Revelations

**Painful Revelations**

Thane sat at the table, reading an old text brought to Kahje by the drell during the exodus of Rahkana, resigned to another night with little to no sleep. At least the book kept his mind from wandering, kept him from tu-fira. He knew the AI was always listening, always recording, though Shepard seemed to think EDI only shared mission critical information with the Illusive Man. Without knowing exactly what her programing considered mission critical, however, Thane was loathe to allow himself to become lost in memories of Irikah. Something told him if the Illusive Man was truly interested in Thane's history, he wouldn't be pressed to learn the details. It didn't mean Thane wished to share them with him, in such an intimate way, however.

As if she knew Thane's thoughts trailed to her, EDI's hologram appeared. "Thane, Shepard wants to know if you would like some tea. She said you can either meet her in the mess hall, or if you prefer, she can bring you a cup to Life Support."

He lifted the corner of his mouth in a smile, pleased by the idea of another night spent enjoying her company. If neither of them found sleep, they might as well not spend the time in solitude. He'd spent so much time in solitude. "I would love some tea. Either location suits me, I leave the decision to her."

A moment later, EDI relayed the next message, "She said she will bring tea to Life Support so as to not disturb the crew."

"I see. Thank you, EDI." He turned off the datapad, setting it aside on his cot and pushed away from the table. Perhaps he'd go see if she needed any help.

He found her gathering together cups on a tray, humming to herself as she organized saucers and spoons. He stopped just beside the first table in the mess and watched her, fascinated by the human in a way he didn't completely understand. The kettle began to whistle, and she turned, lifting it from the range and turned off the heat. But then she stopped, standing still with the kettle hanging in the air. Her brow furrowed, shoulders slumping.

Remembering the look of terror in her eyes the night before, he moved closer, clearing his throat before tucking his hands behind his back. Searching her face when she looked up, he asked, "Are you alright, Shepard?" He waved a hand at the kettle. "I thought I might offer to assist."

She smiled, though it seemed forced, and sat the kettle down on the tray. "Yeah, sorry. I just got lost in thought for a minute." Picking up the tray, she started walking.

He stepped forward, stopping her in her tracks to wrap his hands around the outer edges of the tray. "Please, allow me," he said, offering her a soft smile. He didn't see the same fear in her eyes, but clearly some thought or another disturbed her.

"Alright." She grinned, releasing her hold on the tray. "You've sure got the whole gentleman thing down pat."

"Ah. I've learned my mannerisms sometimes bother humans, particularly females of your species. I hope I haven't offended you." He raised an eyebrow ridge in question, falling into step beside her as she resumed walking.

"Nah." She shrugged. "You've seen how I work a battlefield, I'm sure you have no doubts that I can actually manage to carry a tray a few yards."

"Indeed." He chuckled, and it seemed to bring another smile to her face.

She opened the door for him when they arrived to Life Support, and he waited for her to cross the threshold before following her inside. She moved to the table but stopped, looking around the room. He sat the tray down, watching her with curiosity, wondering what thoughts crossed her mind as she took in the space he'd claimed for himself aboard her ship. It'd been so long since he'd allowed anyone else into his personal space—even since there'd been anyone else who had any desire to enter his personal space—he was reminded of how unnerving it could be the first time Shepard came to Life Support to speak with him. There was nothing different for her to see on her current visit, yet she seemed somehow more interested.

She moved to the weapons he'd laid out on the shelves built into the wall, her hands behind her back as she looked them over. "Huh. Why is it no one but Kasumi and Zaeed seem interested in personalizing living quarters?" She glanced over her shoulder at him, eyebrow raised.

Holding his hand out to the chair closest to the observation window, he said, "I keep few material possessions; even had I the desire for such objects … being an assassin necessitates traveling lightly."

She hummed, sitting down. "Makes sense, I suppose." She reached over to the tray, opening the box of tea and putting a tea bag in each cup.

He picked up the kettle, feeling her gaze on him as he poured the water over the tea before setting it back down again. "As for the others, perhaps they do not feel they will be aboard the _Normandy_ long enough for it to be worth their time?"

"Maybe." She seemed to think about it for a moment, picking up her spoon to move her tea bag around in her cup. "I suppose Garrus makes the Main Battery his own, just not with things so much as the way he moves around the space, works on the guns … he loves that sort of thing." The curve of her lip lifted into a smile, her eyes softening as she spoke about the turian.

"You are fond of him," Thane said, drawing her attention back to him as he took a seat across from her, stirring his own tea.

"Yeah … I suppose I am. He's really been there for me. Even when I showed back up with Cerberus agents in tow, he just … trusted me." Sighing, she continued to stir her tea, gaze wandering aimlessly. "When I first ran into Tali, she was understandably cautious, but she didn't turn her back on me. Kaidan, though …." Pain flashed across her eyes, and her lips pressed in on themselves for a moment. "Anyway," she said, waving her free hand, "Garrus is a good friend. The best. And I can tell he's really struggling to deal with his own ghosts right now." She sighed again, the sound wistful. "I wish he'd open up, talk to me about what's going on in that head of his. I want to help, I just don't know how, but I do know if I push him, he'll lock down completely."

It amazed him how easily she seemed to share her innermost thoughts with him in the quiet moments of night, when the _Normandy_ itself held an almost sacred silence. "Undoubtedly, he understands your desire to help and your willingness to make yourself available to him." Words soft and unobtrusive, he stirred his tea, gaze staying on her. "Perhaps, in time, when he is ready, he will come to you."

"I hope so." She tilted her head a little, studying him, a hint of doubt flitting across her eyes. "You're not letting me keep you up, are you?"

"Not at all." He stopped stirring. "I was still awake, reading. I confess, I'm finding it a little difficult to adjust to the … rhythms of a warship." He glanced down at his cup, scooping his tea bag onto his spoon. "I was pleased when EDI told me you wished to have tea."

"Yeah?" She smiled when he dipped his head. "It's nice … having someone to talk to instead of spending the night staring at my walls, lost in my own, depressing thoughts."

"Indeed." He returned her smile, noting the way she appeared to relax with his reassurance. "And you provide the most intriguing company, Shepard."

It was true, even if he didn't have much to compare it to, he'd encountered few who held any interest for him. She intrigued him. Admittedly, much of her mystique came from the fact she'd escaped Kalahira's embrace, a feat he no longer doubted, but it didn't account for all of his interest in the human. The things she said, the way she spoke, she put him at ease. Not an easy task, undoubtedly. It reminded him of Irikah. Perhaps it was inappropriate to compare Shepard to his wife, but it was indeed a skill they both possessed.

She chuckled. "Thanks, you, too." She pulled her tea bag from the water and pressed it against her spoon. "So, tell me more about the drell memory thing. How do you keep from reliving a memory every few seconds, I mean, you have to be constantly surrounded by people, places, things tied to one memory or another."

 _Indeed._

"Ah. Learning to control one's memories is taught to us very early on." He removed the tea bag from his cup, setting it on the saucer. "No drell masters it completely, but we eventually learn to ignore insignificant memories, brushing them aside without thought, out of habit, almost reflex unless we choose to review them for one reason or another." Waving a hand at nothing in particular, he reached for the sugar as she sat it back on the tray. "Some memories, naturally, are more salient than others and are not so easily set aside. They are particularly difficult when we are actively thinking about them or, as you said, something tied to them. Inevitably, there are times when we fail, the memory consumes us, and the compulsion to give voice to them is undeniable." He paused, lips parted as he considered his words. "This is particularly common when there is also strong emotion tied to the memory or the subject matter."

"And you … it's not just like seeing or hearing these things again, but you sense them in other ways, too? Taste? Touch? Smell?" She raised her eyebrow, bringing her cup to her mouth.

"Precisely. I'm sure you can imagine how discomforting that can be when remembering an injury, or the repulsive odor of a days old corpse. But … other times, remembering the feel of another's hands caressing you after spending countless nights alone," he said, clearing his throat, "or the warmth of a sun on your scales when you are somewhere uncomfortably cold, can make an otherwise unpleasant situation more tolerable."

She picked absently at the edge of the tray where the painted pattern along the rim had begun to chip and fade away. "I remember dying … with more clarity than I'd like, but I can't imagine having to _really_ remember it the way you remember things."

"I—You must have been terrified." He sipped at this tea, at a loss as to what else to say.

"Mhmm. At first, at least. I was knocked away from the ship by a piece of debris, and it ruptured my suit. I was losing oxygen, fast." Her hand crept up to rub at her chest and throat, gaze glazing over. "Even though I knew there was no way I was going to survive, I remember desperately trying to staunch the flow. Hang on to life for just a few seconds more." She looked horror-stricken, eyes wide, skin paler than he'd ever before. "But just before I lost consciousness, there was this … calm. Luckily I blacked out before Alchera's atmosphere started to burn me up, dead long before I hit the ground." She shuddered, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment before opening again, focused on the kettle.

He clasped his hands on top of the table. "Tell me, is there anything that makes you feel alive? What brings you comfort?" Perhaps if she identified those things, she might be able to refocus herself, divest her energy into the things that brought her peace instead.

She took a deep breath, not even taking the time to think about the answer. "Pain."

Turning her attention to her tea, she appeared reluctant to hold his gaze. It certainly wasn't the answer he'd been expecting, nor was it one he wished to encourage her to pursue. She held such strength, and her struggles only made that more clear, but he could see how the existential crisis—as she called it—she was stuck in might destroy her if she didn't find a way to stave off the effects.

"Every time I take a bullet out there … every time I see my own blood oozing out of a wound, I feel alive," she said, her voice soft and distant.

"Is there nothing else?" he asked after a moment of silence, working to keep his voice free of judgement.

She glanced up, meeting his gaze. "Yeah. Um, being touched." She shrugged, laughter forced. "Which doesn't happen so much these days. But even small things, like shaking someone's hand or a pat on the shoulder when someone passes by. It helps. This helps, too. Just talking, not having to be 'Commander Shepard' for a little while. Just … just Jane."

"Jane," he said, testing the name out.

She offered him a weak smile, taking a sip of her tea. "It's been so long since I've even heard my name aloud, I almost forgot what it sounds like."

"Would you prefer I call you Jane?" He raised a brow ridge, already making the shift in his mind, hoping it might help her, even just a little. "While we have tea, at least?"

"If you can keep it straight to call me Shepard in front of the crew and when we're on duty, then yeah." She nodded, the look of distress easing away from her once more. "Why not? It's kind of nice to hear it again."

"Very well, it won't be an issue." He smiled, bringing his cup back to his mouth. "I've gone years at a time not hearing my own name, only using one alias or another. It is, indeed, refreshing to have it known and used by so many now."

"When this is over, will you go back to using an alias? Disappear into anonymity until your time comes?" She swallowed, taking on a haunted look for a heartbeat before she seemed to slam a shutter down over whatever emotion her words evoked.

"I—I haven't really considered." He lowered his gaze, discomforted more by the sudden lack of emotion in her eyes than whatever ghosted across them a moment before. Staring at his tea, he held the cup between his palms, soaking in the warmth.

"Maybe you'll drop me a message from time to time?"

Returning his gaze to her, he dipped his head. "As you wish, for as long as I am able. I suspect I'll have less to say as my condition deteriorates, however."

"Yeah." She searched his gaze for a minute, he only wished he knew for what. "You sure you don't want to see if Dr. Chakwas or Mordin—hell, maybe even Miranda—can do something for—"

"I am at peace, Jane." He knew interrupting her was rude, but he wished to make himself clear on the matter. "You are already giving me more than I could ask for, a chance to do something right and good before I go to the sea."

Shoulders dropping, lips turning down that corners, brow creasing, she said his name. Her disappointment rang loud, as clear as the calls of the songbirds of Kahje. She made no attempt to hide it, either. "Thane …."

"I need nothing more, but it is kind of you to be concerned." Why did he detest seeing that look on her face so much?

She huffed, blowing stray hairs around her face. "That sounded like a really polite way to say 'butt out'. You're a grown man, I can't tell you what to do. But it doesn't take a genius to see you're punishing yourself for something. I just hope you don't change your mind only after it's too late."

Lips parted, he blinked at her a few times. Confounded by the human in front of him, her ability to reach deep down inside of him and pull things to the surface he refused to acknowledge himself, he brought his cup up to take a drink. Shaken, unsure of what to say, or even how she was able to see him so clearly, he let the silence stretch between them, growing awkward and uncomfortable.

She blew out another heavy breath. "Sorry. Guess that really isn't my place to say."

"You have no need to apologize, it was an honest and astute observation." He settled his cup down on the saucer, finding his composure once more. "Perhaps not one I wished to hear, nor one I wish to discuss, but accurate nevertheless."

"Fair enough." She gave him a soft smile. "So, what do you want to discuss?"

Her willingness to change the subject put him at ease, pleased him. "Hmm. Why did you decide to join the Alliance?"

"I'm from Mindoir," she said, as if that was explanation enough. She gave him a wry smile, seeming to understand he didn't follow her train of thought, and she waved a hand. "I was sixteen when batarian slavers attacked, everyone I knew—family, friends, everyone—was either slaughtered or taken. An Alliance patrol saved my life. What else would I do when I turned eighteen?"

He knew of the attacks on Mindoir, and if he'd thought about it for a moment, he might've made the connection, but he still wouldn't have understood why that led her to the Alliance without further explanation. "My apologies, I wasn't aware." And yet, he couldn't say she seemed all too discomforted by the topic.

"It's alright. I've had thirteen years—well, fifteen, I guess … if you want to count the time I spent on Cerberus' slab being put back together—to deal with it." She snorted, an indelicate and amusing habit of hers, he realized. "I don't even know how old to consider myself anymore." She glanced at him. "How old are you, if you don't mind my asking?"

"Not at all. I'm thirty-nine." He took a sip from his cup, thinking his age an irrelevant factor, something simple that carried no weight for him, easy to share. "You continued to exist those years, despite having no memory of the events. Your soul remained, your body … your cells, remained, even if your biological processes were stopped."

"I suppose you're right." She brushed her thumb back and forth across her lower lip, the gesture seeming completely absent-minded. "So, I guess I'm thirty-one."

"Indeed. Young, for a human and yet so accomplished." He smiled, something within him relaxing when she let out a light-hearted scoff. "The first human Spectre. I was there, watching from the shadows, the day the Council gave you the honor."

Eyes lighting up with surprise, she raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"It was a momentous occasion." He waved a hand, brushing it aside, trying to make light of the matter. "My target was there, in the tower, watching you as well. He was quite invested in the proceedings, there was little risk of him escaping while I watched."

Grinning, she asked, "And what did you think? Was it too soon for humanity to be given such a privilege?"

His brow ridges tugged inward, and he shook his head. "You proved yourself worthy by your deeds, whether your species joined the galactic community twenty-six or two hundred and six years prior."

She laughed, the sound light and musical, picking up her cup. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were a Commander Shepard fan."

Perhaps he'd been intrigued by her from the start, but he'd hardly consider himself a 'fan', he didn't go out of his way to study her, to learn about her the way he would've with a target, didn't follow her work the way he might with a favored author. Yet, there was a grain of truth to her teasing. He'd admired her determination everytime her name cropped up in the news, her ruthless, tireless pursuit of an enemy she felt threatened the safety of the galaxy, her persistence in trying to convince the Council of the seriousness of the threat Saren and Sovereign posed. As he told her the day they met, she'd made a career out of doing the impossible.

He smirked, draining his cup. "You are … impressive."

She blushed, the red hue starting just above her suprasternal notch, spreading slowly up her neck towards her face. Fascinating. She seemed to do that often when speaking with him. He wondered if it was the subject matter or the company which brought the physiological response out in her so frequently. Surely it wasn't something she did when acting as commander.

Hiding her face with her cup, she snorted again, glancing away and rolling her eyes. "Says the man reported to be the galaxy's best assassin."

He chuckled, picking up the box of tea. "May I?"

"Of course." She waved her hand at the tray. "Help yourself."

"My thanks." He opened the box, putting one of the small satchels into his cup before picking up the kettle. "I've reviewed your reports on the reapers. With your permission, I would like to forward it to my contacts within the Illuminated Primacy."

"If you think it'll make a difference, please do. Hell, forward it to everyone you know." She watched him as he poured the water, and he wondered what thoughts ran through her mind.

"The hanar are a very … deliberate people. Undoubtedly, they will look into your evidence and take their time discussing the findings, but I believe they will take the matter seriously." He turned his hand out. "What they do after, in response, I can only guess. They are very protective over Kahje, however."

"Mmm." She sipped at her tea. "I'd say so, it's not on any of the star charts. What's it like there? Other than being mostly ocean and too humid for drell?"

"It's …." he said before pausing, nictitating membranes sliding over his eyes as he looked away, gaze fixed on someone light years and more than a decade away. He felt himself being pulled into the memory, and despite his best intentions, he was helpless to stop the words from leaving his lips. " _Hanar dance on the waves behind them, diving below the surface only to reappear again a moment later, their movements graceful. Ethereal. Bioluminescence flashing with declarations of their delight. She runs along the beach, white sand kicking up with each step. He laughs. Looks back over his shoulder. 'Catch me, Mother!' She grins, sunlight glinting off her scales, running faster. He turns, moving out into the water, and she laughs, the sound divine, from the lips of an angel. My angel, my beautiful siha."_ Ripping himself away from the memory took every ounce of willpower he had. He blinked, lowering his gaze as the quiet hum of the drive core and the wide-eyed face of Shepard rushed back in around him. "Forgive me … I—I believe I'm more tired than I realized."

She didn't move or speak for long, endless moments. His heart thundered against his ribs, lungs aching with the strain of keeping his breathing steady. Prayers bounced around inside his skull, begging Arashu to protect him and give him strength, for in that moment, he no longer felt in control. For the first time in ten years, he didn't feel _in control_.

"Of course," she said, voice soft.

He watched her hand move into his field of vision, settling her cup onto the tray before she pushed out her chair. Picking up the tray, she stood and walked away, but she stopped after a handful of steps.

"Thane, I—" She paused, her hesitancy weighing down the air even more. "We're _going_ to survive this mission."

Steeling himself the best he could, he turned to look up at her. The resolve and sympathy etched into the very lines of her face told him so much about the woman. Perhaps another time he might care to ponder on what exactly it said. He dipped his head. "Rest well, Jane."


	3. Blood Lust

**Blood Lust**

Shepard barely spoke to him since the night their conversation triggered a memory of Irikah and Kolyat playing—a memory he'd much rather have kept to himself. He expected her to question him about the woman and child he spoke of, but to his relief, she didn't. Instead, she excused herself, only offering him what he believed to be a reassurance that he would reunite with his family some day. Indeed, he would see Irikah again, quite soon, but not in the manner Shepard intended—if he understood her intention at all.

When she'd knocked on his door as they entered Tuchanka's orbit, it took him by surprise. She'd offered him a tentative smile when she came in, and she asked him to join her and Mordin to go look for his former student. She'd waved her hand, brushing aside the personalization of her request—she could've just as easily asked EDI to tell him to meet her at the shuttles as he knew she did with others on the crew—and made an allusion to thinking his infilitation skills might be of use. The look in her eyes when she'd met his gaze, though, told him his skills weren't truly the reason she wanted him along. It was the same look she had the night she'd told him she didn't know if she was real. He'd crossed the floor to stand in front of her and reached out, cupping her elbow in his palm for a brief moment as he told her he'd gather his things and meet her in the hangar. As he suspected, the nearly terrified look retreated from her gaze at the contact. Neither of them mentioned it at all.

By the time he'd made it to the shuttle, she'd wrapped herself tightly in her battle sleep, became the commander once more. The ride down to the planet's surface was filled with intermittent bursts of information from Mordin about his student, Maelon, followed by stretches of silence. Thane hadn't really had the opportunity to speak with Mordin beyond the few words exchanged in Dantius Towers and on the trip to the _Normandy_. He suspected the salarian wasn't one for socialization, seeming to prefer his lab to anywhere else on the ship, and so didn't judge Thane for his self-imposed solitude. He knew his absence during standard meal times drew whispers from some of the other crew.

He'd watched Shepard closely as she cut her way through Clan Weyrloc, it was as if the gods themselves guided the human's actions. He almost saw Amonkira's hand wrapping around hers, making her aim true. Arashu lending her shield to Shepard, as the human used it to keep watch over her ward, rushing into danger to provide cover to Mordin when his fear for his student urged him a little too close to the enemy. Kalahira's mercy, delivering death swift and with grace. It left him in awe of her.

Then, as she spoke with Mordin about his work on the genophage and looked over the corpses left in the wake of grotesque experimental trials performed by the clan—and the professor's student—her righteous rage at the krogan's suffering gave him clarity. She was a protector, he'd seen it in her all along, the way she fought and sacrificed to save the galaxy the most obvious, but even in the smaller things, like her concern for him and the others she'd taken aboard the _Normandy_. All the gods may have offered her their blessings, but she belonged to Arashu. A warrior-angle of the goddess, a siha. Few had the opportunity in their lives to meet one, how was it he'd managed to encounter two?

Yet it wasn't until they returned to the _Normandy_ that he caught her limp, the tear in her armor catching his eye. She'd been injured, and it appeared she'd neglected to activate her Medi-gel. He wanted to believe she was merely too distracted, too upset over her discussions with Mordin and the discovery that Maelon _willingly_ performed such horrid experiments in his misguided attempts to clear his conscious of the harm done to the krogan with his work on the genophage adaptation.

" _Pain. Every time I take a bullet out there … every time I see my own blood oozing out of a wound, I feel alive."_

But her own words showed him the truth of the matter. A siha she may be, but her wings were broken, and she struggled to learn to fly again. He cleared his throat, catching her attention, even as Mordin continued towards the elevator. She turned back to him, curiosity in her eyes as she searched his face.

He waited until the elevator door slid closed behind Mordin before taking a few steps closer to her, looking pointedly at her leg. "If you do not at least clean and close your wound, you risk a serious infection. Tuchanka is not a hospitable environment, and if I'm not mistaken, you intend to return to the surface with Grunt."

Her face fell, features taking on a sad cast as she shook her head. "I'll clean it, don't worry. It'll close on its own by morning, whether I want it to or not, thanks to Cerberus' implants."

"I see." Thane tucked his hands behind his back, unsure of what to make of the extent of alterations Cerberus made to her physiology.

She smiled, though it appeared forced. "You want to go with me when I take Grunt down?"

He dipped his head. "If you'd like."

"Might as well put you to work so long as we're in arid conditions," she said, tone taking on a teasing quality.

"Indeed." He chuckled, waving his hand toward the elevator, and they started walking again. "Urdnot Wrex seemed pleased to see you again."

She glanced at him, offering him a more genuine smile, voice soft when she said, "He did, didn't he?"

They parted ways on the Crew Deck as he stepped off the elevator and headed for Life Support and she continued on to her cabin. She'd informed him she intended to take a couple of hours to rest and 'refuel' before heading back down. He planned to spend that time in mediation after eating a light meal.

Instead, he'd spent the time sitting quietly, his thoughts focused on Shepard. He found he worried about her, afraid if she didn't find some way to resolve her existential crisis, she would wind up endangering herself in her quest to feel alive. The more time he spent with the human, the more he felt his battle sleep failing him, the edges peeling back, crumbling away from his soul like millennia old paint in the caves of his ancestral home. Ten years. He'd kept his battle sleep wound tightly around him for ten years, and now, so near the end, a human— _another_ _siha_ —would rip it away from him.

When EDI alerted him that Shepard was ready and waiting in the hangar with Grunt, Thane let out a weary sigh and stood. Collecting his weapons, he left Life Support and took the elevator all the way down.

Grunt paced the hangar, head swiveling toward the elevator when Thane stepped off. "About time." He made a sound somewhere between a snort and a growl, turning to the shuttle. "Come on Shepard, I want to get this taken care of."

Shepard glanced at Thane, eyes widened, eyebrows slightly raised and gave her head a little shake. Apparently the young krogan's behavior disturbed her. Thane wondered if it made her reconsider her stance on the genophage, though he suspected it did not. He made his way to the shuttle, waiting for her to climb inside before following and securing the door behind them. Lifting up, the shuttle maneuvered out of the _Normandy_ , and Thane settled in for the long trip back to Tuchanka's surface.

It'd failed to surprise or impress him to see Gatatog Uvenk further inserting himself into Urdnot Wrex's decisions, attempting to persuade the Urdnot Shaman to refuse Grunt the Rite of Passage. It did, however, send a spark of shock and amusement through him to see Shepard rear back and headbutt the krogan. He'd been watching the krogan closely as he formed his complaints, identifying and cataloging five different ways he could kill Uvenk before the krogan could touch Shepard, another six before Uvenk could draw a weapon. She removed the need—temporarily, he suspected—by insulting the krogan in such a fashion. He fought back a smile as Uvenk stormed off, muttering his last threats.

They'd taken a Tomkah to the ancient grounds where countless krogan before underwent the Rite of Passage. Thane listened with interest as the clan Shaman bespoke of the history and importance of the ritual grounds, explaining how the creatures of Tuchanka answered the call of the keystone. Admittedly, he'd never really spent much time studying the culture and history of the krogan, as a species, they held little interest to him beyond being children of pure, innocent instinct, finding no need for guilt or remorse in the lives they took. To call them the brutes of the galaxy would be an understatement, but perhaps he'd underestimated the struggles and trials they undertook to earn such a title.

He recalled tales passed down to him from his father, lore of his own people prior to the hanar uplifting, ancient times when grand fights would be held in arenas. Drell pitted against all manner of beast and, at times, each other; the victor of such fights rarely survived to dawn, but their names were recorded in stone, and they continued to live on, their feats forever etched into the minds of the spectators. He wasn't sure how he felt about such a notion, but perhaps that was simply because for him, to be seen taking a life meant he'd failed at a very important aspect of his job.

Shepard honored him, trusting him to watch her 'six' while Grunt rushed headlong into battle, charging first varren and then klixen. If he'd expected her to take the easy route, find cover and wait out the attack when the thresher maw showed itself, he'd have been mistaken. Alas, he expected no less from Shepard than for her to face the enemy head on, especially since Grunt intended to do exactly that, too. He admitted, some part of him greatly enjoyed the thrill of the battle, man against beast, he could almost hear the chants his ancestors performed before great hunts, prayers to Amonkira, echoing back from ancient times in his ears. He caught Shepard's eye, and the fevered look to her gaze made him wonder if she heard something similar, the blood lust of her own people urging her on. It struck him in that moment, she was beautiful.

When at last the thresher maw let out a screech and collapsed, shaking the ground beneath their feet, Thane new the Rite of Passage must be, regrettably, at an end. Or so he thought. A shuttle descended, settling down amongst the ruins, Uvenk and his krantt stepping out once it landed.

 _Ah._

With the adrenaline still coursing through his veins, the call to violence deep, restless waves crashing against the inside of his skull, he struggled for a second to rein himself in, reminding himself of his place and duty. He turned to Shepard, lifting a brow ridge in question, and she frowned, leading the way over to Uvenk. It shamed him that it pleased him so much the krogan refused to listen to reason and resorted to violence, giving Thane the opportunity to quench that inborn thirst for just a few moments longer.

By the time they returned to the Urdnot camp, he'd composed himself completely. He stood off to the side, observing without intruding as Grunt finalized his rite, kneeling before the Shaman as he bestowed honor and right of name of clan upon Grunt. Shepard lingered next to Thane, her battle-rich scent filling the air around them, he found it … intriguing. He'd followed her back over to the dais where Wrex sat upon his broken, stone throne, listening as she spoke with her friend and ally, again, standing off to the side so as to be unobtrusive. Though she accepted Wrex had responsibilities to his people and must stay on Tuchanka, it was painfully obvious to Thane she desperately wished Wrex would join them on the _Normandy_ … another anchor to her life before her death.

The ride back to the _Normandy_ was filled with laughter and retelling of moments of glory between Grunt and Shepard. Thane contented himself to watch and listen to them, smiling and chuckling along with them from time to time. He only spoke when one or the other of them dragged him into the conversation, and he noticed, in those times, Shepard listened to him with rapt attention. He wished he understood why she seemed drawn to him, of all people … and why he felt drawn to her.

"I'm starving," Shepard said as the shuttle settled back down onto the hangar floor of the _Normandy_. She glanced at him, her gaze lingering, almost as if it refused to look away even as her head turned towards Grunt. At last, she shifted her eyes, turning her gaze to the newest member of clan Urdnot. "How about you guys?"

"I could eat." Grunt laughed, though Thane wasn't sure exactly what was meant to be funny about the statement.

"Indeed," Thane said when she turned her attention back to him.

She smiled. "Give me twenty to get cleaned up and meet me in the mess hall. I'll kick Gardner out and make us something myself, we should celebrate. Call in the rest of the crew, let them know our very own Grunt took down the thresher maw … with a little help."

"A little help," Grunt repeated, laughing again.

Thane felt a brief moment of disappointment, it occurred to him he'd hoped she might wish to do something more relaxing instead, engaging in quiet conversation with him as they ate. Still, she looked so pleased with the prospect, he couldn't bring himself to decline. Perhaps he should learn to be more sociable with the rest of the crew anyway. He returned her smile and dipped his head.

When he made his way to the mess hall a half hour later, he was shocked to find Wrex and several other krogan had come aboard. Rich, deep laughter echoed off the walls as the krogan took turns jostling Grunt around, slapping him on the hump and congratulating him for being the first since Wrex to kill the thresher maw. Thane hesitated, just about to turn around and retreat to the quiet solitude of Life Support when Shepard spotted him from across the mess hall. Her face lit up the moment her gaze met his, and she waved him over.

With a resigned sigh, he made his way through the crowd, deftly dodging the rowdy krogan who attempted to draw him into their shoving match, the scent of ryncol heavy on their breath. Garrus, Tali, and Wrex all stood near Shepard as she worked in the kitchen area. Even Dr. Chakwas had left the confines of the Med Bay to join in on the festivities, greeting Wrex with a warm smile.

"So, Wrex," Garrus said as he leaned against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest, "hmmm, I hear you're working to unite the krogan clans. How's that working out so far?"

Wrex hoisted his shoulders up in a shrug. "There's a few fighting against the idea, but they'll fall in line. It might be a little easier now that Shepard went and killed off Gatatog Uvenk. 'Course I'd rather she'd let him live long enough to actually grow a quad and challenge me outright. Heh, would've been fun to tear into him myself."

"What are the krogan doing to prepare for the reaper invasion?" Garrus asked, mandibles fluttering a little before falling still again.

"Why? Afraid the Council's going to need us to save your asses again?" Wrex chuckled, the sound deep and resonate. "Don't worry, pyjak, when the reapers show up, the krogan will be right there. We're krogan. Where else would we be?"

Garrus smirked, flicking his mandibles. "I don't know, Wrex. Spending all this time sitting around, you might be getting too old and fat to fight the reapers."

Thane blinked, expecting such a remark to start a fight, but instead, Wrex lifted his head and let out a hearty laugh. Shepard chuckled, meeting Thane's gaze when he glanced at her. She seemed … happy. He wished the moment might last for her. He offered her a smile, and he swore he saw a spark of … something in her eyes.

He stayed near to Shepard, offering her assistance as she prepared food, undoubtedly not expecting to feed five additional krogan when she suggested cooking for the crew. Occasionally Tali or Garrus would make their way behind the counter, looking over Shepard's shoulder to offer comments about the dextro preparations, but otherwise everyone seemed to leave them alone as they worked.

Thane excused himself after eating, slipping away back to Life Support, longing for the silence. It wasn't long after when he heard a soft knock at his door, and EDI informed him Shepard wished to speak with him. He stood, turning towards the door as it slid open. Shepard glanced up, meeting his gaze, a cup of tea in each hand.

She hesitated, lingering over the threshold, the sounds of laughter and chatter drifting in behind her. "Mind if I come in?"

"Not at all." He turned, gesturing at the table. "Please, join me."

She crossed the room, stopping in front of him to hand him one of the cups. "You left without saying anything. Everything alright?"

"Ah. My apologies, I didn't wish to interrupt the festivities. You seemed to be enjoying yourself." He sat the cup on the table, returning to his chair as she sat across from him. "I suppose I'm not accustomed to such …."

"Loudness?" She grinned, arching an eyebrow.

He chuckled, dipping his head. "Indeed." Tilting his head a little to the side, he added, "You needn't leave your company for my sake, though."

She shrugged. "It was starting to get a little loud for me, too. It's good though, knowing everyone else is out there having fun. I just hope the krogan don't tear apart the bulkheads or anything."

He smiled. "I'm sure Cerberus will be able to repair any damages."

Snorting softly, she took a drink of her tea and let out a sigh. "In that case, let them rip the whole damn ship apart and make Cerberus replace it."

"I would prefer to dock somewhere, first," he said with smirk.

She let out a bark of laughter, the sound cynical and dry. "Yeah … don't really want to get spaced again. Once was enough for me."

Thane winced inwardly, it was a thoughtless statement. "Jane, I—"

She held up a hand, bringing his apology to a halt. "Relax, Thane. I'm not going to fall apart at the mere insinuation, I'm not that fragile, I swear. Humans … we have a way of making fun of ourselves, making light of serious situations, it helps us to cope with things."

"I see." He took a drink of his tea, noting it wasn't the same chamomile as before, but something richer, with a hint of spice and cream. He hummed. "This is good."

"I'm glad you like it. It's called chai latte." She smiled. "So, it's been a few days since we've really talked. Are you settling in a little better?"

"I believe I am, yes." He nodded. "I explored the ship more completely, over gamma shift three nights ago, while things were quiet and still. It provides me with a certain reassurance knowing exactly where things are located, where others sleep."

She nodded, then raised her eyebrow. "Did you go up to the Captain's Cabin?"

"No, of course not." He blinked, disappointed that she'd think so little of his respect for her personal space. "I wouldn't enter your private quarters without invitation, least of all while you slept."

She smirked, pushing away from the table and standing, jerking her head toward the door. "Come on."

He looked up at her, tilting his head, confused. "Where are we going?"

"Up top." She said, waving him up from the chair. "Might as well take the full tour, get it out of your system."

He hesitated, admittedly curious, both professionally and personally to see the rest of the ship … to see where she lived, so to speak. He chuckled, dipping his head to her. "As you wish." He stood, setting his tea on the table.

"Go ahead and bring it with you, if you want." She nodded toward the cup, so he picked it back up.

He followed her out of Life Support, the raucous sounds even louder in the mess hall than when he left. She stopped in front of the elevator and pushed the call button, the doors sliding open almost instantly. They stepped inside, and Shepard pressed the button for the top deck. When the elevator opened again, it was onto a small foyer facing another set of doors. Thane moved out after her, stopping in the foyer to take in the spaces to the right and left of the elevator, opening into shafts, for maintenance perhaps, but a weakness one could exploit, bypassing the elevator to make their way into her cabin. He glanced back at Shepard, finding her watching him with a soft smile on her face.

"I know," she said. "They lead to access panels in the Armory and Tech Labs. Probably meant to give me alternative escape routes in the event the ship is breached, but …."

"It only makes you vigilant for someone coming up from beneath," he said, finishing her thought.

"Exactly." She pushed her palm against the green glow of the door's control release and stepped inside. Glancing back over her shoulder at him, she jerked her head towards the cabin.

Thane dipped his head, taking that for invitation and crossed the threshold, stopping just inside to tuck his free hand behind his back. He glanced around, surprised by the size of the Captain's Cabin, as well as the apparent luxury it afforded her. Perhaps the most opulent item in the room was the aquarium stretching out over half the wall on his left. Glancing at her again, she dipped her head to him, and he moved further inside, stopping to look at the Illium skald fish swimming around in the tank.

She moved past him, down a short set of stairs and disappeared off to the right of the room. "Take your time, look around. There's couches down here, if you want to sit."

The show of trust wasn't lost on him, he smiled, though she couldn't see. "My thanks." He turned, taking note of the desk, the overturned photograph frame drawing his interest more than the display case filled with model ships above the desk. He hesitated only a moment, curiosity winning out, she did tell him to look around. He crossed the space, picking up the frame and finding a picture of a human man, he recognized the face as Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko. The man stood by Shepard's side as she presented her evidence to the Council, proving Saren's involvement with the geth attacks, and then as the Council made her Spectre.

She'd mentioned him to Thane, briefly, once before while speaking about her old crew, and doing so upset her. Glancing around, he saw no other photographs, just the one of the lieutenant. Curious his picture would be the only she had, even curiouser it would be turned over. Their reunion must've been a difficult one for her, perhaps it pained her to even see his face. He turned the picture back over, careful to leave it just as he found it and glanced over the medals pinned to velvet sitting beside the frame. They held no meaning to him, but clearly they were important to her.

A soft, shuffling sound drew his attention to the shelf behind him, and he saw another small tank, this one filled with wood shavings and a tiny, furred creature snuffling about in its food dish. The creature looked up at Thane and jumped, running back to hide in the small enclosure against the wall of the tank. He chuckled, moving over to open the door next to the shelf, finding a bathroom. Turning back, he took a moment to look at the collection of model ships before making his way to the stairs.

She looked up from a datapad, meeting his gaze. "Gaudy, isn't it?"

He chuckled and dipped his head, stepping down off the last step. "Indeed. Am I to assume this is different from the original _Normandy_?"

Dropping the datapad down on the table in front of the couch, she picked up her tea and leaned back. "Way different. Oh sure, there are similarities, just enough to make it feel familiar and like home, but it's not the same at all." She tilted her head towards the seats on the couch perpendicular to where she sat. "Have a seat, live like royalty for a few minutes and laugh at the peasants down below living in squalor."

He laughed, a bit louder than usual for him, and it brought a wide smile to her face. Moving over, he sat down where she'd indicated, relaxing against the back of the couch. "It is nice, though. Quiet, tranquil even."

She stood up and crossed the floor to a control panel and activated it, glancing up at the ceiling. He followed her gaze to see a shutter slide open above her bed, revealing the stars.

"At first … I kept this closed all the time, it reminded my too much of floating off into space," she said, voice soft, drawing his attention back to her as she crossed back over to the couch. "Now, I open them sometimes. It makes me feel a little less trapped by Cerberus, the _Normandy_ a little less like a gilded cage."

"Gilded cage?" Thane raised a brow ridge, sipping his tea.

"It just means a cage is a cage, no matter how nice you make it look," she said with a shrug.

"Ah." He drank his cooling tea, taking a moment to enjoy the silence, looking up at the ships behind and above her. "Did you put them together yourself?"

She turned sideways on the couch, drawing her leg up onto the cushion, looking at the model ships. "I did." She pursed her lips and nodded. "It's a good way to kill time between missions, when everyone else is asleep."

"That is Sovereign, is it not?" He raised a brow ridge when she met his gaze again.

"Yeah." She scoffed. "Bought it at Citadel Souvenirs. Ironic, isn't it?"

He nodded. "Indeed."

Silence filled the air again as they both stared at the ships, but after a few moments, Shepard propped her elbow on the back of the couch and threaded her fingers through her hair, resting her head on her hand. "Can I ask you something personal? You don't have to answer it, if you don't want to."

Curiosity to see what she'd ask urged him to accept. "Very well."

Still, she hesitated. After a moment, she took a sip of her tea and then asked, "The memory the other night. Was that of your family? And if it was, do they know where you're at? What you're doing here, how risky it is?"

He should've known. He glanced down at his cup of tea, fighting back the waves of memories throwing themselves against his will. Swallowing, he cleared his throat when at last he felt he had control. "My family, yes. I—my wife … she has gone to the sea, many years ago. Our son," he said before stopping to clear his throat again, trying to ease the knot choking him, another layer of his battle sleep crumbling away. He didn't know why he chose to share something _so_ personal with her. Perhaps because she'd been so willing to share such personal things with him, but he felt compelled to continue. "I left him in the care of his aunts and uncles, though he is a man now and has likely moved from their home. I haven't—I don't—I am no longer a part of his life, it is better this way. Safer, for him."

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked." Her voice sounded truly remorseful, and though he wanted to reassure her, he couldn't bring himself to say anything or even meet her gaze. She took a deep breath. "I just thought … nevermind, I apologize."

He took slow, steady breaths, finding the strength to speak again. "No need. But you will understand if I don't wish for this to be made public knowledge."

"Of course."

"My thanks." After a few moments more, his calm returned enough to meet her gaze. "Perhaps you'll indulge me in a personal question?"

"Seems only fair." She offered him a soft, apologetic smile.

He gestured beyond the display case. "There is a photograph turned over on your desk."

She chuckled. "That's not a question. But, yes, there is. It's of Kaidan."

Her mirth gave him the courage to press. "It seemed to bring you discomfort when you mentioned him the other night."

"We became romantically involved on the old _Normandy_ , and I thought I actually meant something to him. He meant something to me." She hesitated, lips parted, pulling in a deep breath. "But, when I found him on Horizon, he couldn't see past the Cerberus logo. He looked at me with disgust, there was so much disdain in his voice as he ridiculed me for being with Cerberus, and for having dragged Garrus into it, too. He wasn't willing to hear any explanation I might offer. It hurt. A lot."

Thane raised a brow ridge, daring to push a little further. "Surely the intimate nature of your relationship afforded you some level of trust?"

"You'd think," she said with a scoff. "Later, he sent me an apology letter, if you can call it that, but I couldn't bring myself to respond. I don't hate him or anything, and … I guess I forgive him. I understand, after all Cerberus is Cerberus … but I'll never be able to forget that look on his face. I'll never be able to look at him again and not feel that rejection, when I needed him the most." She huffed a wry laugh. "I think Garrus wanted to punch him. If I'm being completely honest, I did, too." Letting out a loud sigh, she forced a smile on her face. "Well, aren't we just depressing?"

The statement stung a little, he'd pushed her too far, asked for more than she'd wanted to share. "Perhaps we can talk about something else."

She lifted an eyebrow. "Like what?"

"Ah. Your thoughts on the krogan genophage," he said, giving voice to the first thing to come to mind. "I have not met many who share your views."

"No?" She asked, despite not seeming surprised by the statement. She hummed. "What are your views?"

He took a moment to consider his response, wanting to choose words that conveyed his thoughts without carrying offense. "I believe the krogan are a volatile people, and yet, as with all live, I believe they have the right to self-determinate. It is not for us to impose our will on them, not for us to hold their progress hostage. We should certainly defend ourselves against them, should the need arise, but the genophage isn't a defensive maneuver, it is an oppressive one. And one that leaves little real opportunity for the krogan to evolve as a civilization."

A genuine smile spread across her face. "I'm glad to hear you see it that way." She sighed. "I think Mordin regrets it more than what he's willing to admit. It sounded like he was really reaching to justify it to himself, or maybe that's just my wishful thinking."

"I thought much the same, but I don't believe it is something that can be forced on him. He must come to the conclusion on his own." Thane paused, considering Maelon's words and actions. "Perhaps seeing his student driven to madness in his own struggle to accept his role in the krogan's suffering will encourage him to reevaluate."

"Mordin's old, for a salarian, he doesn't have too many years left." She leaned forward, picking her cup up from the table and took a swallow before setting it back down. "He saved the research, maybe … maybe he'll decide to do the right thing while he still has the chance."

"Perhaps." Thane tilted his head to the side. "Though, it's unlikely the Council will allow such a thing to go unchecked, should he cure the genophage."

"True." She let out an unexpected growl of frustration. "God, they're all a bunch of assholes. Except Anderson, of course, but I don't honestly know _what_ he'd say about curing the genophage."

"The fears the galaxy holds about the krogan aren't unjustified," he said, offering her another piece to help balance her internal scales.

She sighed, head moving in a slight nod. "No, I suppose they're not."

"Your friend, Wrex, seems to be moving his people in the right direction." Thane was truly impressed by the work the krogan had already managed to achieve.

"He's trying, but you heard Uvenk." She waved a hand. "He wasn't the only one to see things his way."

"No change comes without those who oppose it, siha." Thane stopped, blinking once, and then once again. He had no intention of calling her siha, why had he done so? "My apologies," he said, before she could question the slip, though the confusion was clear in her eyes. He hoped she wouldn't ask, but he could see the words there, already forming on the tip of her tongue.

"Siha? That sounds familiar, I must've seen it somewhere, when I was looking into drell." She lifted her eyebrows. "What does it mean?"

Either she truly didn't recall him referring to Irikah as siha in his memory, or she was offering him the opportunity to save face, as humans called it. He wasn't sure which. Either way, heat crept into his frills, and he scrambled to compose himself.

Embarrassed, Thane coughed into his fist. "Ah. It is … one of the warrior-angels of the goddess Arashu. Watching you in battle today, you reminded me of a siha. Fierce in wrath. A tenacious protector. It was a slip of the tongue, as you'd say, I didn't intend to call you such."

"Hmm." She pursed her lips. "That's too bad."

"Oh?" He raised his brow ridge, watching her with curiosity and inexplicable hope.

Lips slowly turning upward in a smile, she said, "I like it."


	4. Adjustment Disorder

**Adjustment Disorder**

Thane sat at his table, bracing his elbows against the metal surface, and clasped his hands in front of him. He stared out at the mass effect energy surrounding the drive core as he turned the events of the last couple of weeks over in his head. Despite clinging to the last of his battle sleep, he realized he'd developed feelings of some sort for the human commander. He examined them, ripping them out of himself and laying them out on the table before him, allowing himself to look at them objectively.

He'd spent ten years in solitude, only communicating with those interested in hiring his services or whose services he sought in aid of acquiring his target. He had no friends, no one to share any part of his life with … no lover beyond the very rare few hours he might spend in a stranger's bed, either because his contract required it of him, or because the needs of his flesh grew too loud to ignore. Empty encounters, void of any emotion or connection.

The last thing he truly allowed himself to feel was the depraved satisfaction in hunting down the men who murdered his wife. Before that, the agony of racing home only to find he was too late. The shame of seeing his son, distraught beyond all reason and unable to find it in himself to offer the child comfort as Kolyat strained to free himself, chase his mother's body out into the deep, tears streaming down his face, begging Thane not to let them take her away.

He bit down on the edge of his tongue, using the sharp pain and taste of blood to center himself in the present, refusing to allow those memories to escape into the monitored confines of Life Support. He'd felt so little for so few his entire life. How could he possibly hope to understand what it was he felt for Shepard? It wasn't like what he felt for Irikah, yet it was so unlike what he ever felt for those few he once counted among his friends. Regardless, he knew better than to trust any emotion sweeping in to drown him after ten years spent in a battle sleep. Everything felt stronger, more real, than if he'd remained accustomed to experiencing emotions over the last decade.

He'd told her of Irikah and Kolyat. Why? Oh, he didn't go into great detail, but neither did he hold back from revealing their connection to him when she asked. The thought of denying her the truth never really crossed his mind. He spent his life shrouded in lies, a necessity for an assassin. So why then would he so easily share with _her_ what he held closest to his heart? How had he come to trust _her_ so completely, so swiftly? And he realized he did.

She was concerned for him, for his family. Clearly, she thought it important they know of the dangers Thane faced joining her mission, regardless of already being terminally ill. There was something ….

" _I left him in the care of his aunts and uncles," I say, unable to meet her gaze. Believing she might think less of me. I don't wish to see disappointment in her eyes. "Though he is a man now and has likely moved from their home. I haven't—" I struggle to give voice to my actions, to justify my choice to abandon my son. "I don't—I am no longer a part of his life, it is better this way." The words … they're meant for me, not her. "Safer, for him."_

 _Less than a second passes before she responds. I think she must've already known exactly what she wanted to say. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked." Remorse fills her voice, and it shames me further. I want to reassure her, tell her she's done nothing wrong. After all, I made the choice to share, she did not tear the words from my lips. But I can't speak. Can't look at her. She takes a deep breath. Hesitates. The air in her lungs scrapping a small, crackle of sound from her vocal chords as it tries to escape. "I just thought," she says, hesitates again, "... nevermind, I apologize."_

"What, Shepard? What did you think?" Thane whispered, moving his clasped hands against his mouth.

"Shepard is on a mission right now." EDI's voice filled the room, pulling him away from his musings. "Would you like for me to inform her that you wish to speak to her when she returns?"

He chuckled, lowering his hands to fold them on top of the table. "No, EDI, thank you. I was speaking to myself, lost in thought."

"I see," EDI said, and then as if considering his statement, she added, "I have found many organics speak to themselves when they perceive themselves to be alone."

"Indeed?" He raised a brow ridge.

"Yes. I have also found organics tend to speak to objects incapable of thought. For instance, Flight Lieutenant Moreau often speaks to the ship and the flight controls." Her tone shifted, taking on an almost humorous lilt. "At first, I believed he was speaking to me when he did this, but when I inquired as to why he persisted to call me 'baby', he laughed and informed me he was talking to the _Normandy_ and not to me. I asked him why he would speak to an inanimate object, did he not understand the _Normandy_ was incapable of response, but he only cursed and muted my speakers in the cockpit."

Thane grinned, letting out a light laugh. The AI was also growing on him, despite knowing she made reports to the Illusive Man. Her curiosity and the conclusions she drew at times amused him. "Have you come to understand why organics behave this way?"

"I searched my databases and came to the conclusion that it serves the purpose of aiding in thought process and problem solving," said EDI. "At times, it also helps to stave off the effects of social isolation."

"That sounds like an accurate conclusion." Thane dipped his head.

"Are you feeling socially isolated, Thane?" EDI asked, her tone soft, conveying a compassion she claimed to be unable to feel, yet inquisitive. "You do not often leave Life Support unless you are called on to take part in a mission, and you only speak with Shepard with any regularity."

The question surprised him, leaving him blinking while he processed her intentions. "I—Not at the moment, no. I suppose I am attempting to problem solve."

"Then may I be of assistance?"

He thought about it for a moment and then smiled. "Perhaps … consider the conversation I had with Shepard in her cabin regarding my family. I am trying to understand what Shepard might have been thinking when she said, 'I just thought … nevermind, I apologize.' Have you any suggestions?"

"Analysis of Shepard's body language, facial expressions, and biometric scans from that moment indicate there was something more she wished to say but was reluctant to express herself. My databases indicate this is often the case when an individual doesn't wish to upset the person they're speaking to, or they fear punishment for breaking a social norm." She paused for a moment, and just as Thane was about to speak again, she said, "Given the context of the conversation and the human tendency to attempt to reconnect with those they have distanced themselves from in the final years of their lives, as well as the tendency of humans to consider the preservation of familial bonds as a moral imperative in life, I suspect she thought the same thing I did in that moment: you should reconnect with your son and inform him of your illness and the nature of our current mission while there is still time."

"Ah." Thane brought his hands back up to his mouth. "Of course. Thank you, EDI."

The AI's hypothesis carried an uncomfortable ring of truth. He wouldn't be surprised at all to learn she successfully narrowed down Shepard's thoughts on the matter. Undoubtedly, Shepard didn't feel comfortable giving voice to her opinion because of his obvious discomfort, and the way he handled things when she attempted to persuade him to reconsider her offer of medical assistance.

"You are welcome," EDI said, pulling him back out of his thoughts. "Is there anything else I can assist you with?"

"Indeed, I wonder if you have told the Illusive Man of my conversations with Shepard." At the very least, he suspected the AI wouldn't feel any need to lie to him. "If he has been informed of the nature of our discussions."

"I have not. Relationships and conversations held outside of active duty times are given low priority unless they relate to, or have the potential to affect, the mission against the collectors. When a report is filed regarding such activities, it is succinct, including only those details of higher level importance." There was a pause of a few seconds before EDI added, "Conversations and actions which seem to indicate a psychological disturbance are reported, in minimal detail, to Yeoman Chambers."

Thane considered her words for a moment, finding it likely EDI had informed Ms. Chambers of the things Shepard spoke of, her fears of not really being alive. But what else might the AI have interpreted as a sign of 'psychological disturbance'? "I see, and what have you reported to Ms. Chambers in regards to my conversations with Shepard?"

"Yeoman Chambers has been informed that Shepard has expressed thoughts and emotions which may be indicative of an adjustment disorder, anxiety, and depression," said EDI. "She has expressed distaste at discussing these things with Yeoman Chambers but appears to be seeking regular counsel with one of the crew members." She paused. "I have been asked to monitor Shepard for indicators of worsening symptoms or the expression of suicidal ideation. Should Shepard display these qualities, I am obligated to notify Yeoman Chambers."

"Has … has Shepard mentioned a desire to commit suicide?" The thought battered at his battle sleep like waves crashing against Kahje's shores during a storm, the undertow threatening to pull him under completely.

"I cannot answer that question." Her tone sounded almost regretful. "However, I can tell you that overall, her mood appears to have improved since you joined the crew. I believe time spent with you is beneficial for Shepard, as such, I have given an increased priority to these times, rerouting non-vital communications to her messaging system and informing crew that if their needs can wait, it would be best if they not disturb her."

"I see." He hesitated, weighing out the new information, examining the stirring of whatever emotions he felt towards Shepard. It sounded as if the AI and Ms. Chambers expected much of him. He felt inclined to want to help Shepard, regardless of whatever else he may or may not feel towards the woman, but he didn't feel qualified to have such a delicate matter rest on his shoulders alone. Nor did he approve of the idea of those around her conspiring about how best to handle her mental health without her knowledge. "Is she aware of this … arrangement?"

"No, but there is no mandate preventing her from being informed," EDI said.

He tilted his head. "I believe she would want to know."

"Very well. I will compile a report to send to her messaging system." EDI fell silent for a moment. "The report has been sent."

He had much to consider, but still, EDI hadn't given him all of the answers he sought. "Have you not filed any reports about me in specific?"

The AI didn't hesitate before saying, "Reports were filed regarding your explorations of the _Normandy_. You did not attempt to access any secured areas or information, so the threat was deemed negligible and you were allowed to continue."

 _They consider me a threat? Interesting._

"Nothing else?" he asked.

"Not to date." Her voice took on a light, almost teasing tone as she asked, "Is there a specific subject you would like for me to file a report on?"

Thane chuckled. "No, not at all. I would prefer no reports regarding me were filed, but I understand you are required to fulfill your duties." He sat back in his chair. "How is Shepard's current mission going?"

"The mission is complete and the shuttle will reach the _Normandy_ in two minutes and thirty-two seconds," EDI said.

"Indeed?" He found himself on his feet before he even realized he intended to stand. "Thank you, EDI. This conversation has been enlightening."

Thane made his way down to the hangar, an uneasy apprehension guiding his feet. He dreaded seeing her return with wounds still bleeding, feared what it might mean for her if she continued on with her practice of bloodletting. Both in regards to her well-being and what it might mean to Cerberus, what they might do if the Illusive Man decided his mandate to bring Shepard back exactly as she was had been unsuccessful. EDI held the elevator once it reached the hangar, informing him she would open the doors as soon as the airlock seals were restored.

When the elevator opened, he saw the shuttle lowering itself to the hangar floor. He stepped aside to watch, taking up station next to one of the coolant system fans to wait for Shepard. Jacob was the first to exit the shuttle, and the look on the man's face as he marched toward the elevator urged Thane into the shadows. Clearly, the distress signal on Aeia had not been what Jacob hoped for, and Thane didn't know him—nor trust the Cerberus operative—well enough to attempt to console him in any way. Indeed, the human had also made his distaste for Thane and his profession clear the night Thane joined the _Normandy_. Better to let the man pass uncontested, unaware of Thane's presence.

Glancing around the corner, he saw Garrus headed for the elevator. Shepard, on the other hand, sat down on the open edge of the shuttle, feet on the hangar floor. She placed her helmet between her feet and braced her elbows on her knees, scrubbing her hands over her face. Garrus glanced back over his shoulder, clearly expecting to find Shepard not far behind, and he stopped when he realized she wasn't following him. He didn't yet seem aware of Thane's presence, either, though Thane knew a few more feet and the turian would easily pick up on his scent. He found himself pressing further back into the hangar, questioning his own sanity. What reason did he have to hide himself from Garrus?

Garrus turned back, making his way towards the shuttle once more as Thane watched from the shadows. The turian stopped in front of Shepard, looking down at her, and she up at him. "Hey, Shepard. Are you alright?" Garrus asked, voice trailing back to Thane, all but echoing through the cavernous hangar. "You seem, hmm," he said, pausing, shoulders expanding as if he'd taken a deep breath. "Spirits, it's so hard to get an accurate read on you now, your scent is all tangled up in the smell of metal and hot circuitry."

Silently, Thane crept a little further down the hangar, parallel to where the two talked. He stayed to the shadows and the environmental equipment, knowing the metal and oils would help disguise his scent. How would he explain his behavior if Garrus caught wind of him?

She scoffed, face contorting into a mask of contempt, shaking her head. "You'd think that'd make it easier for you to actually talk to me, you seem to prefer the company of machines." Wincing, she dropped her gaze and shook her head again. "Damn it, I'm sorry, Garrus. I shouldn't be snapping at you, I'm not upset with you."

He hummed, moving to crouch down in front of her, one arm braced against his knee, the fingers of his other hand pressing against the ground. "No, I probably deserved that. But, it's not you, Shepard. I'm just not in a good space right now." Moving his hand from the floor, he reached out and settled it on her shoulder. "What's going on with you? Talk to me."

Thane stilled, watching as she shifted, leaning into the contact a fraction. He felt … sweet Arashu, what did he feel? Torn. He felt torn. Some part of him selfishly wished she'd brush aside Garrus' questions and tell him everything was alright, sharing those parts of herself with Thane alone. He wanted to be the one to comfort her, though why and how he found himself in such a position was beyond his understanding. Then again, another part of him wanted her to share her fears with the person she considered her closest friend. Perhaps she'd find an anchor she seemed so desperate for, perhaps then he might find his own peace in returning to the shadows of her life, trusting she'd be looked after by someone else.

She sucked in a deep breath and let it out slow. "I guess I'm just not really in a good space, either. I'm still wrapping my head around being alive again—if I even really _am_ alive again—and what that means in the face of war, but then I run across complete assholes like Jacob's dad, and I just … some people make it really hard for me to _not_ kill them."

Thane's brow ridges twitched. So, they'd found Jacob's father alive? Interesting. He wondered what the man did to so clearly anger Jacob and make Shepard wish to harm him.

Garrus chuffed, mandibles fluttering lightly. "Yeah, I know the feeling." Shifting his weight on his toes, he pivoted, turning to sit next to her on the open shuttle. "What do you mean _if_ you're really alive again?"

She turned her head to look at him and shrugged. "It just doesn't feel real sometimes. How can it be? I died, Garrus. And I've killed way too many people in my career to not know how permanent death is." Sucking in a deep breath, she held it for a moment. "Except for things like what Saren became at the end—and husks."

 _Ah. She hasn't spoken of this with me, not yet. Perhaps EDI and I have both overestimated her comfort with me. Or perhaps these are thoughts she's only now finding the courage to voice._

Letting out a low growl, Garrus held her gaze and shook his head. "You're not like Saren, or the husks, Shepard."

She stared at her helmet on the ground for a long moment, letting the silence stretch. "I think they used reaper tech to bring me back." She turned a hand over, showing him her empty palm. "We know they've meddled with it before, experimented on husks. And there was a hell of a lot of tech floating around the Citadel after we killed Sovereign. It makes sense." She glanced up at Garrus, that fear filling her gaze once more.

The layers to her nightmares just kept unfolding, revealing something new and perhaps more terrifying with each word. Thane's chest tightened, and he fought the urge to rub at the ache, taking slow, deep breaths to ease the pain. Her thoughts weren't irrational, from what he read about the reapers, and what he'd seen with Cerberus … there was certainly a chance they'd used reaper technology to resurrect her. But did that mean she would become like Saren? He didn't understand exactly how the indoctrination process worked, but it appeared in her reports as if an individual needed to spend a significant amount of time around an unshielded artifact, or as with Saren, with an actual reaper. Would the pieces of Sovereign—if that's what they were—implanted in her hold such power? Her reports on Saren's statements indicated it was a slow and insidious process, but when he looked at Shepard, Thane couldn't imaging the vibrant soul he saw within her ever becoming so corrupt.

Garrus let out another low growl. "You're not like Saren. Saren was _insane_. He wanted to _help_ the reapers. Last I checked, you still want to _kill_ them. So, unless that's changed …."

"No," she said, shaking her head, "it hasn't changed, but what if it does? I mean … what if Kaidan's right? What if by working with Cerberus, even to defeat the collectors, I'm already losing myself, and I just don't realize it yet? And you're here with me, surrounded by people who, for all we really know, would happily perform insane experiments on you to advance humanity. All because you had the unfortunate luck of believing in me."

Thane began to understand why she only turned to Garrus with those thoughts. Who knew her better? Who could tell her if she was behaving in a way untrue to herself? Who else but Garrus, who had witnessed the betrayal she endured by her lover—someone they both knew—could assuage those specific fears?

"Hmmm. I'm only alive right now because of you, Shepard," Garrus said, looking sideways at her. "Back on Omega, before you showed up, I knew I wasn't getting out of it alive. I even called my father to apologize for not listening to his advice, but then I saw you through my scope, and I knew I'd survive. So, I'd say my believing in you has brought me pretty damn good luck."

So Thane had that much in common with the turian. If not for Shepard's arrival, he would quite likely have died in Dantius Towers.

Shepard snorted, pressing her face into her hands. "That must've been an awkward conversation."

"It was," Garrus said, voice dry. Flicking a mandible, he hummed and leaned over, bumping his shoulder against hers. "But, it could've gone a hell of a lot worse."

"You mean like taking a rocket to the face?" She glanced up, giving him a half-smile.

Thane hadn't yet heard the story of what happened to Garrus to cause half his face to be wrapped in bandages. If what Shepard implied was in fact true, then Thane was impressed by the turian's resilience. Then again, he'd heard rumors of the turian on Omega calling himself Archangel long before he met Garrus, if half of them were true, then perhaps Thane shouldn't be surprised at all. Shepard did seem intent on surrounding herself with the best in everything.

Garrus chuffed, fluttering his mandibles. "I think it makes me look … distinguished."

"That it does." She leaned into him, resting her head against his shoulder.

The ease with which Shepard and Garrus talked and touched one another left Thane longing for that same level of companionship. He reminded himself he had that once, and so much more, but he abandoned it—abandoned his wife and child. Irikah died because he wasn't there to protect her, he didn't deserve to have companionship—in any form—not truly, with anyone else. Yet Shepard had given it to him again, anyway. No, perhaps not the same as she shared with Garrus, but companionship nevertheless. Indeed, it must be that void, having been given a taste and howling for more, which left him so confused and drove him to such inappropriate thoughts and behavior—such as lurking behind an environmental fan in the hangar, spying on her as she shared an intimate moment with her dearest friend, as if she were a target he intended to eliminate.

Garrus let out a confused sounding trill, but then shifted, throwing his arm over her shoulder. "Hmm. So … how badly do you think this mission screwed with Jacob's head?"

"He'll pull it together, but—yeah," she said, shrugging the shoulder pressed against his side, "I can't imagine what he must be going through."

"I thought he was going to shoot Ronald." Garrus flared his mandibles. "Didn't look like you were going to stop him, either."

She turned a little to look up at him, and he met her gaze. "Should I have?"

"I wouldn't have, but, uh, hmmm." His mandibles fluttered, and he gave her a light shake of his head. "I may not be the best person to talk to if you're trying to calibrate your moral compass, Shepard. You know I've never exactly been a by the book kind of turian."

She laughed, the sound echoing off the hangar walls. "You just _had_ to slip 'calibrate' in there somewhere, didn't you, Vakarian? I think you may have an addiction."

Garrus chuckled, but Thane didn't quite understand the joke. "Maybe. But, it keeps me focused on something else, you know? Keeps me out of my own head."

"Yeah …." She smirked, looking up at Garrus again. "Maybe I should go calibrate the guns, then."

He chuffed. "You stay away from my guns, we actually want to hit our targets when the time comes."

She snorted and slapped his armored chest with the back of her hand. "Don't give me that shit, Garrus. We both know I'm the better shot."

"Ha!" Garrus' sudden bark of the word thundered across the hangar, making Thane blink in surprise. "In what reality are you a better shot than I am?"

She arched an eyebrow. "In every reality."

"Uh huh." His mandibles fluttered with his humor, mouth plates shifting into a smirk. "When this mission is over, you and me, we're hitting the range. We'll settle this once and for all."

"It's a date," Shepard said, grinning as she turned her head back to rest against his shoulder.

"Hmmm. Speaking of dates, rumor has it you've been spending a lot of time with Thane in Life Support, and I may have seen the two of you headed up to your cabin the night Wrex was onboard." He raised his brow plates, looking down at her. "Something there? Should the _Normandy_ be expecting little human-drell hybrids running around?"

Thane's breath caught in his throat. Although it seemed clear Garrus meant to tease her, Thane suspected it carried a grain of truth. He'd never considered how their spending time together might look to the rest of the crew, how going to her cabin might be misconstrued as something … more than … more than two friends spending time together, sharing tea and conversation. Yet … it was something more to him, wasn't it? The thoughts tumbled around inside his head, creating shockwaves to ripple through the remnants of his battle sleep, forcing him to reevaluate his thoughts and behaviors towards the woman once more.

She snorted, slapping Garrus' chest again. "Please. Even if there was something going on between us, which there's not, you know damn well biology isn't that accommodating." She rocked her head back and forth against his shoulder. "He's just good to talk to," she said, voice so soft Thane almost didn't catch the words.

"Really?" Garrus shifted his brow plates upward. "I thought he was more what you humans call the 'strong silent type.'"

"I think he's just not really used to socializing, but he does alright when things are quiet and there's not a lot of people around," she said, and it pleased Thane to hear her defend him, even over something so simple. "He had some trouble adjusting to the ship, and sleep hasn't exactly been my best friend since all of this; he found me in the mess hall making tea one night and sat down with me to talk. He's actually been pretty good with helping me to deal with the whole being alive thing."

Thane smiled even as he warned himself against feeling the pride that pressed in against him.

"Well, I suppose if anyone would know the difference between alive and dead it'd be the assassin." Garrus let out a soft chuff. "You like him, though. I can still smell that much on you."

Thane's heart stuttered in his chest, head tilting to the side as he processed the statement. Surely Garrus only meant to toy with her, engage in the teasing banter they shared a moment before. He didn't truly mean to imply Shepard had a romantic interest in Thane. Though … it might explain some of the things he'd seen in her eyes while they talked, the way she always seemed to light up whenever her gaze found his in a crowd.

"Yeah, guess I do."

 _Indeed? That's … intriguing._

Thane didn't have the chance to fully consider her confession and what it meant to him before Garrus spoke again.

"Ordinarily, I'd tell you to go for it, Shepard. Leave Kaidan's crap in the past. If he's too blind to realize what a wonderful thing he had with you, then he doesn't deserve you." Garrus shifted to look down at her, his voice hesitant but filled with compassion as he said, "But Thane's sick, he said he doesn't have long left …."

The reminder hit Thane harder than expected, not as if he could ever forget his illness, but …. Garrus was right, and he was being foolish. He'd never felt a desire for someone of another species before, he wouldn't even know what to do. Even if he dared to entertain the idea of something more with Shepard—with anyone—it was not only unwise, but unfair to her. She struggled with accepting her own life, what would it do to her if he welcomed her embrace only to die within a few months time? That aside … he still mourned Irikah, and Shepard was the first person he'd allowed to get close to him since her death. What did he know of matters of the heart, his own led him astray once before? The reaction he had to hearing her admit her interest in him might be nothing more than him confusing the longing of friendship with genuine desire.

She closed her eyes, the corners of her mouth turning down. "I know," she said, voice sad and wistful. She let the silence stretch between them, her features relaxing once more, seeming to enjoy the contact and the comfort Garrus brought her. "If the Council doesn't get their heads out of their asses, none of us are going to have long left."

Garrus flicked his mandibles. "Then we'll just have to make them listen, yell loud enough, someone's bound to take notice, right?"

"Right." She sat up, and he let his arm fall away from her.

"And we both know you can yell pretty loud," he said with another smirk.

"Damn right, I can." She wrapped her fingers around the yoke of his armor and gave it a gentle shake. "Thanks, Garrus. I'm glad you're here. I know I've said it before, but really, I couldn't do this without you."

He patted her back. "There's nowhere I'd rather be, Shepard. Now, uh, if you'll excuse me," he said pushing up to his feet and looking down at her, "I believe there's some calibrations that need done."

She snorted. "Go ahead, junkie. Just know, one of these days, you're going to have to start talking about what's going on in that head of yours, too."

He took a deep breath, shoulders rising with the motion, and let it out slow. "Maybe, but not today."

She nodded. "Not today." Picking up her helmet, she stood, closed the shuttle door, and together they walked to the elevator, leaving Thane to sort through his thoughts in silence.


	5. Red Welts

**Red Welts**

Having retreated to the relative safety of Life Support, Thane spent two hours pacing the floor, stopping periodically to rub his head and assure EDI he was not in need of medical attention. He'd developed … an attraction to Shepard. No, that was too calloused. A romantic interest, one which she apparently shared. And it felt like a betrayal to Irikah. He certainly didn't intend to pursue Shepard, at least not beyond friendship. Acknowledging his interest would allow him to control it, he just needed to submerse himself in something else. Perhaps spend his free time with more of the crew, allow new relationships to form.

The soft chime sounded, indicating the start of dinner being served in the mess hall. He looked up, turning toward the door. Why not start right away? He left Life Support, stepping out into the hall the same time as the Justicar who spent her time right next door to him in Starboard Observation. She smiled at him, and he dipped his head to her. He waited for her to pass, habit of courtesy as much as not really desiring to have the Justicar at his back, before following her into the mess hall. The tables were already beginning to fill, primarily with Cerberus crew members.

A line formed in front of the counter, and Gardner worked to dole out trays. Thane approached, taking up station behind Ms. Lawson. She glanced over her shoulder and then did a double take, looking at him again.

"Good evening, Ms. Lawson," he said when she met his gaze.

Curiosity filled her eyes as she turned sideways in the queue to address him, crossing her arms over her chest. "Thane, I'm surprised to see you. You don't normally join us for meals. Some of the crew were beginning to speculate as to whether or not you even eat."

Thane chuckled, tucking his hands behind his back. "I am not accustomed to taking my meals in the company of others, but I assure you, I do eat."

"Well of course you eat." She let out a scoff, but smiled, her gaze sweeping over the Cerberus crew enjoying their meal. "They don't truly believe you don't, they're just … bored, I suppose, and you remain a mystery to them." She turned, moving as the line shifted forward. Glancing over her shoulder again, she said, "I'm sure they'd lose interest in fabricating tall tales about you if they saw you more often. Drell aren't a well known species."

"Yes, I am aware." He tilted his head in agreement. "Our numbers are low, and we are not wide spread. Few of us ever make it beyond hanar controlled space."

She arched an eyebrow. "Which is precisely why Cerberus has no interest in studying the drell."

"You don't have to be rude, Miranda," the voice of Ms. Chambers came from behind him.

Thane turned, instantly spotting the shock of red hair belonging to Shepard a little further down the line. She grinned when he found her gaze, and the beast he was trying to escape within stirred awake, alert and focused on her. Interesting that she chose to stand in line with everyone else when her position aboard the ship gave her the right to move ahead of the queue. He smiled then tore his gaze away to take in Ms. Chambers, dipping his head to her. She beamed at him, eyelashes fluttering.

"I'm not being rude, I'm being practical. I meant no offense," Ms. Lawson said.

"Offense?" Zaeed scoffed, from just behind Ms. Chambers, following it with a rough, dry chuckle. "Hell, sweetheart, he probably feels _relieved_."

"Thane, the line is moving," Ms. Chambers said.

He glanced back to the front, seeing Ms. Lawson moved away from him while he tracked the other participants in the conversation, trying to formulate an appropriate response. "So it has, my apologies." He shuffled up closer to Ms. Lawson.

"I'm glad to see you decided to join us for dinner." Ms. Chambers moved out from behind him to stand at his side. "And please, don't let Miranda bother you, she's good at a lot of things, but diplomacy isn't one of them."

"I _can_ hear you." Ms. Lawson glanced over her shoulder, narrowing her gaze at the other woman.

Ms. Chambers just smiled, though. "I know. I'm still hoping you'll change your mind about the social skills training I spoke to you about."

Ms. Lawson scoffed, rolling her eyes and turning back around. Ms. Chambers looked up at Thane, grinning. He chuckled, grateful for the woman's presence in a situation that otherwise left him feeling adrift.

He managed to make it through the line without changing his mind and excusing himself, only just. Ms. Chambers invited him to sit with her, so he followed her to the table of her choice and took a seat across from her. A moment later he felt a shift in the air next to him and turned to look at the empty seat to his left just as the _Normandy's_ resident thief appeared, her tray materializing along with her.

Thane dipped his head. "Ms. Goto."

She grinned and waved a hand. "Please, Kasumi's fine."

"As you wish," he said, returning her smile.

Not long after, Garrus filled in the space to Thane's right, and Shepard sat across from him, next to Ms. Chambers. Thane found his gaze drifting back to her, time and time again. Every word she spoke captured his attention, her laughter bringing a smile to his face even when she wasn't speaking with him. He tried to focus on what the others around him were saying, reminded himself to join in on the conversations, but her very presence called to him like a beacon. He didn't even notice when Kasumi disappeared again, or when precisely Mordin replaced Ms. Chambers.

Garrus turned to him. "So, Thane. What exactly does one do to become an assassin?"

Thane raised a brow ridge. "Considering a change in profession?"

Garrus chuckled, mandibles fluttering as he shook his head. "No, just curious."

"I was trained as part of the Compact—ah, the agreement between the drell and hanar. I didn't begin freelancing until many years later." Thane waved a hand at nothing in particular. "By then, I'd already established contacts of my own and made a name for myself, so the transition wasn't difficult."

Garrus hummed."Why'd you decide to go freelance?"

Thane looked down at his plate, carefully setting his fork on the edge and picking up his glass of ice water. "I left the Compact to try my hand at other trades but found them … unfulfilling, so I returned to what I knew, what I was best at." He took a drink from the glass and sat it down again. "And you? You were with C-Sec before joining Shepard, as I recall. The Investigations Division, stationed in the Wards."

Flaring his mandibles, Garrus nodded. "That was eerily specific."

"Ah." Thane smirked. "I make it a point to familiarize myself with all local law enforcement wherever my targets are, it makes my contracts run more smoothly."

"Right," Garrus said, dragging the word out, obviously doubting Thane's word. "I left C-Sec over three years ago."

"Drell like salarians. Eidetic memory," Mordin spoke up, gaze remaining on a datapad he'd brought to the table with him. "Once acquired, information remains accessible for life. Method of recall different, however."

"Thane was on the Citadel during our investigation into Saren," Shepard said, and she smiled when Thane turned his attention to her. She glanced back at Garrus. "He watched my induction ceremony."

"Ah, first human Spectre. Would've liked to have been there." Mordin looked up at Shepard. "Saw rebroadcast on news days later, less impact than in person."

Garrus hummed, studying Thane. "Kind of makes me rethink some of my old homicide cold cases."

Thane smirked. "Indeed."

He didn't stay much longer, the conversation moving on around him as he cleared his plate. He excused himself, feeling Shepard's gaze on him as he returned his tray to Gardner and made his way back to Life Support. He let out a heavy breath when the door slid closed behind him.

He spent an hour in meditation, blessedly finding the quiet within once again, and with it, some clarity. Perhaps he _should_ reach out to Kolyat. He was nearing the end of his life, and Kolyat was grown, it wasn't as if Thane would be taking on the care of a small child. Only, he expected Kolyat to hate him, but if that was what truly kept Thane from contacting his son, then he was a coward. He owed it to Kolyat; his son deserved to know the truth about his mother and about Thane's absence. He deserved the chance to yell and rage at Thane, and … to tell Thane goodbye.

Resolved, he pushed himself to his feet just as EDI announced Shepard's presence at his door. He bid her to enter, tucking his hands behind his back as the door slid open. She lingered in the doorway, hand resting on the frame for a moment before she bit the corner of her lip.

"Shepard. Do you need something?" He turned to hold his hand out at the table. "Please, come in."

She stepped inside, just far enough for the door to slide closed behind her but no further. She crossed her arms, almost as if she were hugging herself. "I just checked my messages and found a report from EDI."

"Ah." He lowered his gaze.

"When I asked her about it, she said you suggested she send it to me."

"Indeed." He met her gaze again. "The … topic came up in discussion over what she reports to the Illusive Man. When I learned you weren't made aware of the arrangements made concerning you, I suggested I thought you'd wish to know."

"Yeah, well … I just came down here to tell you I'm fine. They're overreacting, and I didn't realize they were that involved. I'm not _suicidal_ , Christ, and I certainly don't need them treating you like … like—like my goddamn babysitter or something." Her face flushed red, brow a deep furrow. "I'm sorry they put that on you. I'm sorry _I_ put that on you. Sorry if I worried you."

He took a few, hesitant steps closer to her, but she only looked away from him. "You have nothing to apologize to me for, Jane." He stopped, tucking his hands behind his back, wishing she'd look at him again. "I enjoy our time together, and I … I am honored that you are willing to discuss such thoughts with me. I don't know what I did to deserve your trust, but it's important to me."

"I should go." She turned around so swiftly, it left him dazed as her hand reached for the door's control.

"Siha …" The word slipped out of him before he thought about whether or not it was wise.

She stopped, hand hovering over the lock. Her head lowered, shoulders sagging. "I'm sorry," she whispered and hit the door's release control, stepping out before the door even opened completely.

Thane stood there, speechless, feeling helpless for several minutes as his mind shifted back and forth between the idea of going after her and giving her space. Finally, he sucked in a deep breath and let it out slow, turning away from the door. He went and stood next to the observation window, looking out over the drive core for awhile before eventually deciding to change and go to bed. Sleep fought him, every little noise leaving him hoping it was Shepard returning to talk to him, but eventually he settled into unconsciousness.

 _He stood on the deserted shores of the island he grew up on, warm rain pelting him, stinging against his face and bare chest. Hanar danced on the waves just beyond the break, their bioluminescence barely reaching his eyes, despite the thick, near-black, storm clouds hanging overhead, casting the beach in twilight. He turned, spotting a familiar shape further down the beach, and smiled. "Irikah?" He blinked, moving towards the shape, picking up speed until he ran harder, faster than he could ever remember, the pain in his lungs be damned._

 _The closer he got, though, the more he realized something was wrong. It wasn't Irikah, it couldn't be. Irikah was dead, she died defending their son. Because of him. She died because of him. He tried to stop, even just slow down, but his feet continued to propel him forward. The woman turned, showing him her face, and it was like being struck by lightning._

 _He dropped to his knees, throwing his arms out before him in supplication. "Kalahira." The name spilled from his trembling lips, fear wrapping a tight fist around his heart. He thought he was ready … thought he'd welcome Kalahira's embrace when the time came to carry him across the sea, but there, in that moment, he felt terrified. I don't want to die, he thought._

" _None ever do, but it is not yet your time."_

Thane's eyes snapped opened, the dream already fading from consciousness as he strained to listen, hearing the door to Life Support hiss. Darkness surrounded him, the soft glow of the drive core casting the room in shadows. He stood on silent feet, moving to the edge of the wall his cot was pushed against and peered around the edge, prepared to defend himself should the need arise.

Shepard stood in his doorway, just over the threshold, not yet far enough in for the door to close behind her. Dim light from the hall spilled in behind her, doing little to help him make out her features, but her shape was unmistakable. He heard her ragged breathing from where he stood, understanding immediately she fought to control tears.

"Jane?" He moved away from the wall, stepping out where she might see him.

She wiped at her face. "I'm sorry, I should've asked EDI if you were awake." She backed away, moving over the threshold and out into the light.

He stepped closer, the tears trickling down her face calling to him. "It's no bother … are you well?" He stopped when she turned her head away, looking down the hall, and the light caught on fresh, red welts along her throat.

"I—" She turned back to him, horror sweeping over her face, turning her skin a deathly pale. Her hand crept up toward her neck, mouth working soundlessly before she sucked in a sharp breath and held it. Squeezing her eyes closed forced more tears to spill down her face.

Closing the distance between them, he reached out, settling his hand on her arm. "Siha, what—" He started to ask what happened, but before the words left his mouth, she stepped closer, almost falling against him as she dropped her forehead to his shoulder.

She let out a low, mournful keen, and her whole body shook with her sobs. He hadn't expected so much contact when he'd reached for her, the warmth of her face and arms against his bare scales froze his mind for a second, two sets of instincts warring with one another until at last the one demanding he comfort her proved victorious, and he wrapped his arms around her. He urged her inside, glancing out and down the hall to be sure they weren't watched.

The door slid closed behind them, and not knowing what else to do, he led her to his cot. He guided her down to sit on the edge, intending to pull the chair over for himself, but she clung to him, so he sat down next to her. She leaned into him, face buried against his shoulder and neck, gasps of breath hot against his frills, fingers clinging to his bare shoulder and chest. Tears, warm at first but quickly cooling, slid down his scales.

He wasn't good with emotion, not in himself, not in another. He never really knew what to say or do, how to provide comfort. Irikah cried like this a few times early in their relationship, when her father went to the sea, when weeks of research performed over countless sleepless nights had been lost by mistake, when she was pregnant with Kolyat, not working herself, and he failed to keep yet another job because he couldn't tolerate the conditions under which he was expected to work. At first, she would come to him in those moments, share her grief with him, and cry on his shoulder much as Shepard did … but he failed to provide her the comfort she needed, didn't have the words to soothe her aching soul, and so, eventually she stopped. There was a time he was foolish enough to believe she simply hadn't the need, but later he realized, she just kept her anguish to herself.

He didn't wish to invalidate Irikah's pain in those moments, but her complaints seemed trivial compared to the things Shepard experienced and continued to struggle with, leaving him even more helpless, at a loss as to how to help. He searched his mind, looking for times when he'd seen others comfort each other or been comforted himself. The most vibrant memory came from his childhood, from before he was given to the Compact, when his mother would sing to him. And so he sang, or rather hummed, not quite giving voice to the lyrics of the song so as not to insult her with tender words meant for a child, but letting his vocal chords mimic the sweet sound of her voice, even if they weren't truly able to match the pitch. His hand began to move, nearly of its own accord, making broad, sweeping circles against her back, just as his mother had done for him all those years ago.

Within a few seconds, the keening cut off, the sobs becoming less vocal until eventually they stopped altogether. Soon, her tears ceased, and her breathing steadied out, coming at a regular, gentler pace. He continued to hum and rub her back, content to let her stay there, pressed against him, seemingly soothed by his touch and the sound of his voice until she no longer wished to be. As the song came to an end, he prepared himself to start over, but she separated herself from him.

Sniffing, she wiped at her face, the glow of the drive core turning her skin an ethereal blue in the otherwise dark room. "Sorry," she said, the word cracking in her throat.

"There is no need," he said, keeping his voice low.

She let out a soft scoff and shook her head. "This is completely unprofessional." Letting out a rueful chuckle, she followed it with a groan and scrubbed her hands over her face. "EDI, please turn the lights on, but keep them low."

"Yes, Shepard," EDI said, her voice just as gentle and low as Thane's a moment before, as if the AI felt hesitant to intrude on the moment and experienced empathy for Shepard's plight.

The lights turned on, to a setting he presumed to be calculator for optimal comfort for a distraught human's eyes. Perhaps a setting Shepard used herself in her cabin. It was more than enough for him to see her clearly, to see the scratch marks over her throat, others trailing away behind her hair towards the back of her neck. Blood welled in a few places, the lacerations not quite deep enough to allow it to do more than bead along the surface.

Sniffing again, she looked at him and then grimaced. Reaching out, she swiped a hand over his shoulder and chest, smearing tears across his scales and huffed. "God, I soaked you."

"It will dry." He lifted a hand and hesitated, but she didn't move away from him, so he brushed her hair back, exposing the scratches at the sides and back of her neck and leaned to the side to get a better look. "You're bleeding." Letting the strands of red silk slip through his fingers, he brought his hand to rest on his thigh, watching her intently, hoping she wouldn't make him have to ask what happened.

She averted her gaze and closed her eyes, shaking her head. "They're just scratches, they'll be gone in a few hours. It happened in my sleep, it wasn't on purpose, if that's what you're thinking."

"Not at all," he said, taken aback by the defensiveness in her tone. "I only wished to understand what happened, what troubles you. I didn't intend to cause offense, my apologies."

She let out a deflated sigh, shoulders slumping. Turning her gaze to him once more, she shook her head. "No, I'm the one barging in on you in the middle of the night," her gaze drifted over his chest, the color rushing to her face before she looked away again, "while you're half-dressed and probably sleeping. Crying like a damn infant. Shit, maybe I do need you as a babysitter." She snorted, a soft, barely audible sound, and glanced at him again, the corner of her mouth lifting in a smirk. "I'm pretty sure that _was_ a lullaby you just used to pacify me."

Embarrassed by his obvious lack of finesse when it came to certain social situations, heat crept into his frills and he brought his fist to his mouth, coughing gently. "I—It was the first thing to come to mind, I didn't mean to imply—"

She chuckled, leaning over to bump her shoulder against his, much the way he'd seen Garrus do to her earlier in the day. "Relax. It was nice, I liked it. And it did the trick. I tell you what, you don't tell anyone Commander Shepard was crying like a baby, and I won't tell anyone Mr. Badass Assassin sings lullabies."

"Agreed." He chuckled, searching her face as she stared off towards the drive core.

Turning her attention back to him, she scraped her teeth over her lip and said, "I dreamed about getting spaced again." She folded one of shoulders inwards towards her chest; apparently her renewed composure came with the need to deflect and minimize. "I guess I scratched myself up trying to find the breach in my suit while dreaming." Blowing out a breath, she puffed out her cheeks. "I didn't mean to come in here like this, a sobbing mess. I don't even know why it hit me so hard. Just a stressful day, I guess. Anyway, I was just looking for a distraction, and I thought you might still be up."

"I'm glad you came to me." He dipped his head a little to catch her gaze again, her normally emerald eyes dulled to a hunter green in the dim light. "After we last spoke, I feared I had ruined our … friendship with my attempts to help."

She gave him a gentle smile. "Nah, it's not that easy to get rid of me. I just needed time to put my thoughts in order. Though I guess it didn't do a whole lot of good." She turned her attention to the floor and sat in silence for a moment. "Huh," she said, "Your toes have webbing, too."

Surprised at the discordant observation, he laughed. "Indeed."

She turned back to him, eyes bright despite the low light and grinned. "I should get out of here, let you get back to sleep." Pushing off the cot, she stood, turning a little to face him as he looked up at her. "Garrus said there's already rumors flying about over us spending so much time together. Don't need to give the scuttlebutt anymore fuel." She snorted when he drew his brow ridges in with confusion. "Gossip, it just means gossip."

"Ah. I don't care what the others think." He stood, somehow more aware of her proximity once on his feet and facing her than he was a moment before with her sitting next to him, shoulder to shoulder. "You are the first friend I've had in ten years. I am here for you, Jane. Whenever you need me."

She slid her hand into his, giving his fingers a gentle squeeze. "Thank you, Thane." Her hand slipped away again, gone far too quickly, and she stepped around him. "Goodnight."

"Rest well, siha."


	6. Disconnected

**Disconnected**

Thane stared at the message, nictitating membrane sliding back and forth across his eyes as he tried to process what the words on his omni-tool's screen said.

 _How could this happen?_

He'd reached out to some of his old contacts, trying to learn where his son went after leaving Kahje. It surprised him to learn Kolyat left Kahje at all, but Irikah's siblings assured him that Kolyat left a little over a year before. They hadn't spoken to him in months, but promised to contact Thane should they hear from him. Theodus located him on the Citadel, and Avalina reported finding Thane's lockbox with the volus banker, Palun Dakur, recorded access by Kolyat. And then, the worst thing, the thing Thane hoped to save Kolyat from … Jasper informed him that Kolyat accepted a contract to kill someone.

"I can't allow this to happen," Thane said, only tangentially aware he'd spoken the words aloud. "EDI, where is Shepard?"

"Shepard is in her cabin. Is there something you would like for me to tell her?"

He didn't hesitate, sucking in a breath. "I need to speak with her, urgently."

The AI stayed quiet for a few seconds and then said, "She asked for you come to her cabin."

"Very well, I will go now." Thane left Life Support before she had the chance to respond. The elevator opened for him, the car empty, before he even arrived. "Thank you, EDI," he said, stepping inside.

"You are welcome," she said as the doors slid closed.

The elevator started to lift without him even needing to push the button. Ordinarily, he might find it somewhat discomforting to know just how much control the Cerberus AI had over the _Normandy_ , but his thoughts were otherwise preoccupied with his son. The elevator stopped, the door sliding opened again. As soon as his foot touched down in the foyer, the door to Shepard's cabin slid open as well.

"I'm down here." Her voice carried through the cabin, meeting him in the foyer.

Thane made his way down the stairs, stopping a few feet from her and tucking his hands behind his back. "Shepard, sorry to intrude, but I have something urgent I need to speak with you about."

Her hair appeared wet, and he smelled the scents of her soaps in the air, yet there wasn't the heavy, suffocating feel of humidity. He realized the soft hum af the air filtration system in her cabin sounded louder than before; it must be working to pull out the excess moisture, likely for his sake. He wondered if it was her idea or EDI's.

She pulled on a boot, glancing up at him as she tied the laces and lifted an eyebrow. "So, this is a Shepard conversation and not a Jane conversation?"

He lowered his gaze, looking at the floor in front of him, guilt washing over him. "Indeed, my apologies. I know you've just returned from Pragia and probably hoped to relax."

"You don't need to apologize, Thane." She slipped on her other boot and tied off the laces before standing, facing him at parade rest when he met her gaze again. "Just making sure I'm using the right mental gears is all. What can I do for you?"

"I—" He brought a hand to his forehead, rubbing his fingers back and forth across his brow and shook his head. "I'm afraid I have made a terrible mistake."

"Alright," she said slowly. "Start from the top, tell me what happened."

Meeting her gaze again, he nodded absently. "Thank you."

"Sure. Do you want to sit down?" She gestured at the couch.

"No—not just yet." He glanced around the cabin, gaze sweeping over the couches, tables, her bed, and wardrobe in his search for a sense of grounding. "I feel like I need—I don't know what I need." He let out a sigh and turned his attention back to her.

She offered him a warm smile, but he found it lacking something, missing the personal feel it held when they talked as friends. As it should be, just then. "It's alright, take your time."

"My time, yes, perhaps that is part of the problem." He lifted the corner of his mouth in a self-deprecating smirk. "I have stayed lost in my battle sleep for far too long, apathetic to the galaxy around me. Now, after ten years, it is failing me, and it may be too late."

Her eyebrow twitched, but whatever question she filled her thoughts, she didn't give voice to. Instead, she stood in silence, watching him and waiting.

"I decided to trace my son, Kolyat. I thought perhaps if I assured myself he was doing well, I could face this mission in peace, the … emotions breaking through my battle sleep might leave me be." He turned, pacing over to stand in front of the fish tank, looking inside. "He has become disconnected, and I am to blame."

She moved to stand a couple of feet away from him, and he turned to face her. "What's happened?" she asked, voice calm yet commanding.

"Years ago, I prepared a package for him. A relic of my ill-spent life. I hired volus bankers to store it and arranged for delivery when I died." Thane took a breath and turned his attention back to the fish tank, finding some measure of tranquility in the blue and pink fish swimming past. "I did wet work on the Citadel around the time his mother died. That may be why he went there. Whatever the reason, he acquired the package early and now has taken a job as a hit man." Meeting her gaze once more, he said, "I never wanted this for him, Shepard. When his mother—when Irikah died …." He trailed off, eyes losing focus as the memory started to overcome him.

Then, someone touched him and a gentle, stern voice called his name as his fingers closed around a wrist. He blinked, releasing his grip on her arm before instinct drove him to break the delicate bones. "Ah." He tucked his hand behind his back once more. "My apologies, and thank you."

She pulled her hand away, crossing her arms loosely over her chest and leaned against the fish tank. "No problem."

"Her death was my fault. The men who killed her did so as revenge against me. They would have killed Kolyat, too, had she not heard them coming and hid him." He bowed his head. "I left him with his mother's family, because I did not know how to be a father. My entire life has been this one thing, I couldn't even set it aside to be a father and a husband. I never wanted Kolyat to know this about me, but I felt leaving this life without providing him something, some kind of explanation … I never imagined he might decide to take on this life of sin."

She swallowed audibly but remained silent for long seconds. At last she asked, "Do you know who he's planning on killing, or who hired him?"

"I do not." He met her gaze, using her emerald eyes as an anchor, feeling on the verge of losing himself again. The memories of Kolyat as a child pressed in tight around him, insistent with his fear for his son.

She raised an eyebrow, chin shifting downward a fraction. "But he's on the Citadel?"

He gave her a curt nod. "He is."

Shepard glanced over her shoulder towards the AI access node. "EDI? Redirect us to the Citadel."

The blue hologram popped up. "Right away, Shepard."

Relief sweeping over him, Thane touched her elbow, drawing her attention back to him. "Thank you, siha," he said, shifting to the term of … endearment as a means of letting her know he'd concluded his need for formality and to deepen his expression of gratitude.

She smiled, the mask of command slipping just a little as she nodded her head. "Of course. Do you feel like sitting now? I have a couple of questions." It appeared she, however, was not yet finished doing her job.

He let go of her, tucking his hands behind his back and dipped his head. "As you wish."

They moved to the couch, and Thane sat closer than last time, taking the seat two down from her instead of moving to the other section. He wanted to be closer to her, and he wasn't in the mindset to chastise himself for feeding the feelings he developed for the woman. He wanted to pull her into his arms, feel her pressed against his chest again, and tell her how incredibly grateful he felt towards her for being so willing to aid him, but that, at least, he would refrain from.

She turned, sitting sideways to face him, and draped her arm over the back of the couch. "I'm not entirely sure what you mean by battle sleep or disconnected. Can you explain those to me?"

"Ah, of course. Perhaps you call it something else?" He raised a brow ridge, turning a little more to face her. "Battle sleep is … putting your soul to sleep so your body may do what it must, fight and kill, without remorse or spending precious seconds weighing your actions, when you … exist on reflex." He waved a hand at her. "You've done this yourself, I've seen the change in you in battle."

She nodded, seeming to think on his words before turning her head to the side, gaze narrowing. "Wait, are you saying you've spent the last _ten years_ existing in that state?"

"Indeed." He dipped his head. "After Irikah's death … I saw no reason to wake my soul again." It felt so odd, saying her name aloud, especially to a woman he felt something for. "I—my body hunted down the men responsible for her death and killed them." He lowered his gaze, giving his head a light shake. "No, I suppose that isn't entirely true. _I chose_ to kill the men responsible the moment I returned to my battle sleep, knowing the instinct to avenge my wife ran strong through my veins. The only lives I have ever chosen on my own accord to take, their blood stains my soul—I must accept it. I did not … I was not merciful, their deaths were not swift." He searched her face, relieved at finding no sign of harsh judgement in her eyes.

After a long stretch of silence in which she watched him, her thoughts and emotions a complete mystery to him as nothing showed on her face, she said, "That's an awfully long time to stay detached, Thane. What's changed? You said it's failing you now."

He looked at her for a few seconds, blinking several times before finally saying, "As I said the other night, it's been ten years since I've had a friend, someone who doesn't fear me, who's interested in sitting and talking with me … sharing themselves with me."

Eyebrows arching, she asked, "Are you—are you saying I woke you up from this battle sleep?"

"Indeed, though even now I cling to the tattered pieces of what remains." He took a deep breath, ordering his thoughts. "The awareness which seeps in just before waking, where if whatever has disturbed your sleep doesn't persist, you can easily slip away again."

Pain flashed through her eyes, bright and clear, forcing him to fight the urge to wince. "I'm disturbing you?"

"No—not disturbing me. I've given you the wrong idea." He looked away from her, out across the room at the open shutters above her bed, distracting himself from the look in her eyes. "Have you ever stepped into a hot shower when your limbs are nearly numb with cold? You know that given time, your body will adjust, but initially the sensation is uncomfortable, painful, even."

"And if you start with a cooler temperature and work your way up, it takes longer to get warm, but it's easier on your body to adjust."

"Precisely," he said, turning his gaze back to her, relieved once again to see her eyes clear of emotion.

She nodded, seeming lost in thought. "So, what's disconnected mean for drell?"

"I suppose some might see it as no different in nature than battle sleep." He turned more, mirroring her posture. "Drell view the body as a vessel working together with the soul to form a whole person. When one becomes disconnected, their body and soul no longer work together as one." He lifted his fingers up from the back of the couch, only a few inches away from her own, in gesture. "When the soul is weakened by despair or fear, or the body injured or ill, the individual becomes disconnected, no longer whole. A body, disconnected from its soul, does what it will. Battle sleep is a choice, something which comes with training and discipline, though I suppose for some it is less so, but being disconnected is never a choice."

She pursed her lips for a moment. "Do you think Kolyat became disconnected because he received your package?"

"I fear it is the case, and I am haunted by the idea he may have accepted this contract to be closer to me." Thane looked down at his other hand resting on his knee. "I thought by leaving him with his aunts and uncles, though he may hate me for it, he would have a better life without me present. I fear it was a mistake."

"You can't change what's already happened, but you're not dead yet, Thane." The defiance in her voice brought his attention back to her. Her gaze latched onto his, holding him prisoner. "We'll find Kolyat, and with a little luck, we'll keep him from making this mistake. You still have time to get to know your son and let him get to know you." She smiled, casting aside her formal reserve and showing him the woman he'd come to know in the quiet nights spent conversing. Her eyes conveyed a warmth and kindness leaving him a little breathless. "For what it's worth, I think you're a great person, whether or not you're an assassin, and as you said, he's an adult now, let it be his choice."

He returned her smile, pushing aside the urge to reach out and touch her, it wasn't she who needed to be reminded she was alive in the moment, but him. "You are wise beyond your years, Jane."

She chuckled, skin creasing at the corners of her eyes. "You say that as if you're an old man."

"No, just older than you," he said, grinning at her, amazed at how much the sound of her laughter had come to please him.

Snorting she shook her head, glancing away. "I missed lunch, I was going to ask Kelly to bring me up something. Figured I'd relax up here for awhile, maybe look at some reports. But, if you want to stick around for a bit, I can ask her to bring a plate for you, too." Turning her gaze back to him, she smirked. "It'd be the perfect reason to procrastinate."

Thane thought about all the excuses he could use to decline, all the reasons he should, but … he just didn't _want_ to. Smiling, he dipped his head. "I would like that."

Joy seemed to dance in her eyes, but it barely reached her lips. He wondered if she struggled with her emotions, fighting to keep from expressing her interest in him. For a moment, he felt ashamed for having eavesdropped on such a personal conversation, and hearing her confession to Garrus made it so much more difficult for him to keep himself from embracing his own feelings, nurturing them, pursuing something more with Shepard. He watched her as she used her omni-tool to call down to Kelly, brushing her hair behind her ear, and for one insane moment, he allowed himself to imagine the feel of her hair running through his fingers, imagined tracing the curve of her ear.

Swallowing, he tore his gaze away from her and pushed himself to his feet, moving to stand in front of the fish tank. A moment later she joined him, standing within arms reach, her hands tucked behind her back as she watched the fish swim by.

"I don't know why I bought them," she said.

He turned to her, lifting a brow ridge in question when she met his gaze.

"The fish." She nodded her head towards the tank. "I forget to feed them sometimes, and without ever knowing how long a mission will take … three have died on me already." She scrunched up her nose. "I'm a terrible person. I don't forget to feed the hamster, but the hamster's different, I only need to fill his bowls once every few days."

"If you'd like," he said, then hesitated, questioning his motivations for making such an offer, "I can feed them for you when you're gone—assuming I'm not on mission with you." He smiled, shaking his head at himself. "I won't forget, and I'm sure EDI can remind you when you are here."

"Would you like for me to set reminders, Shepard?" EDI's voice filled the cabin.

Shepard chuckled. "Sure, thanks, EDI." Pursing her lips a little, she nodded at Thane. "Alright, if you're positive you don't mind?"

"Not at all." He turned his gaze back to the fish, focusing on steadying his breathing. "Have you fed them today?"

She laughed, and he saw her nod in his peripherals. "Yeah, I fed them not too long ago." Turning to face him, she leaned against the tank, arms crossed. "Can I ask you something?"

The seriousness of her tone demanded his full attention, so he faced her, dipping his head. "As you wish."

Her lips parted, but she hesitated, brow drawing in a little. When she spoke, her words came slow, as if chosen with caution and concern for how they might impact him. "If people were able to track down Irikah and Kolyat once, what made you think they couldn't find him again if they wanted to? You didn't think he'd be safer with you there to protect him?"

He lowered his gaze, watching as she shifted her feet, one boot sliding a couple of inches toward him, as if she wanted to come closer. He'd considered the very idea many times before, constantly wondering if Kolyat would be more or less at risk if he'd stayed on Kahje, refused to ever leave Kolyat's side. It was a gamble, either way, and sometimes he thought his odds were greater returning to Kahje, other days it seemed like the thing most certain to lead to Kolyat's death. When he didn't say anything after a moment, she did move, taking a step and a half closer to him.

"Thane," she said, voice filled with regret. "I'm not judging you, or blaming you or anything. I'm just trying to understand." She reached for him, but he pretended not to see her hand as he turned, making his way back to the couch.

"I didn't know. I could never _know_." He took a deep breath, pushing out the tails of his jacket as he sat on the edge of the couch. Glancing up, he watched her as she followed him back over to the couch. "But I needed to believe if someone else decided to come for me, it was best if I did not lead them directly to Kolyat myself."

She seemed to weigh his words a moment and then nodded as she took her seat, drawing one knee up onto the cushion and pressing her back against the arm of the couch so she faced him. "I guess that make sense. Do his aunts and uncles know what you do for a living?"

"No." He rested his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands. "Irikah just told them I was away on business." Lowering his gaze to the table, he shook his head, sadness and regret flooding his heart. "I was always away on business." He turned his head to look at her. "I abandoned them, Jane." He expected to see— _needed to see_ —disgust in her eyes at the announcement, but instead he only saw confusion, and maybe a hint of shock.

Blinking her eyes, she recovered quickly enough. "What do you mean?"

"I … I felt so intimidated, discouraged by my own failings, my inadequacies as a father and a husband, I just let myself slip away. Started taking jobs further away from home, staying gone for longer stretches of time. Eventually I stopped returning between contracts." He searched her gaze, realizing he wished she'd reach out for him again despite knowing, if anything, what he said might push her further away. "I never meant to … I didn't intend to stay gone forever, but I allowed myself to become complacent, believing they would always be there waiting for me to return. Believing I was good enough at my profession to leave nothing behind for anyone to ever trace back to me or my family. I left them unprotected. I abandoned them."

She pulled her arms in around herself, wedging her right elbow against the back of the couch, resting her thumb against her lips. After a moment, she asked, "What made you think you were such a bad father and husband? Because you weren't able to make it work out doing other jobs?"

He gave her a slow, shallow nod. "In part, yes. There were other things, though." Glancing out over the room, his gaze shifted back to the window above her bed, the stars passing them by, white streaks beyond the glass. "When our marriage was young, and Kolyat was first born, I felt so much love and happiness. I didn't know how to make everything work out, but I remained determined to find a way." The corner of his mouth lifted in a wry smile as he remembered how clueless and lost he'd been. "She taught me things a man my age should have already known, how to hold an infant, how to bathe them and feed them … I did my best, at first, investing myself as completely as I could, but over the years, I found I could no more sustain that level of affection and attention than I could handle working menial labor."

Sighing, he waved his hand. "I found myself becoming easily frustrated by the mundane, distracted by the next potential contract, it was as if the stars pulled at me, demanded I move. Amonkira called me to find new quarry to hunt." Clasping his hands once more, he recalled his thoughts on Irikah he had while consoling Shepard. "When Irikah would come to me, upset over one thing or another, I was at a loss as to how to make her feel better, eventually I stopped trying so hard. And eventually, she stopped coming to me with her hurts." He frowned. "Kolyat would come to me, trying his best to capture my attention, and I would give it to him … for a minute or two at a time, setting him aside as soon as my console beeped, notifying me of an update on my next contract."

He turned his attention back to Shepard, finding her watching him intently. "When he behaved in ways I now know were perfectly normal for a boy his age, I often felt appalled. Those behaviors weren't tolerated in my training, we were taught discipline, self-control early on. I didn't know how to react, how to treat him in those moments." He lowered his head, gaze landing on Shepard's waist before he shifted his attention back to the window above the bed. "Irikah's friends and family would often give me strange looks, whisper about me when they thought I wasn't listening, telling one another how bad they felt for Irikah and for Kolyat to have such a distant and cold husband and father."

"Shepard, Yeoman Chambers has arrived. Shall I let her inside?" EDI asked, and Thane turned his head to look at Shepard once more.

She turned, looking back towards the AI's hologram despite not being able to see it from where she sat. "Ah, no, I'll meet her at the door. Thanks, EDI." Glancing back at Thane, she said, "Give me a minute."

He dipped his head, and she stood, heading up the stairs. He listened as she opened the door, hers and Ms. Chambers' voices trailing back to him. Ms. Chambers made attempts to engage Shepard in conversation, inquiring about her wellbeing, but Shepard shut her down, a certain level of coldness to her voice, the same as he'd heard the night she learned of the yeoman's machinations to, in effect, use Thane as Shepard's counselor. He'd hoped she might forgive Ms. Chambers, who undoubtedly only held Shepard's best interests at heart. At least as far as that rationale was concerned.

A moment later, Shepard returned, carrying a tray on each upturned palm. He stood, moving to her as she made her way down the stairs, taking a tray from her. Heading back to the couch, he rounded the table to sit down, sliding his tray on the table. She sat closer to him, sharing the table's surface with him as settled her tray down.

"You didn't have many friends of your own, did you?" Her gaze flicked to him as she arranged her bowl and glass to her liking. "Other men, husbands and fathers, you could talk to about these things?"

"I—no. I've never been especially good at making friends of my own, and though many of Irikah's friends had husbands, my contact with them was superficial at best." He lifted the lid off the shallow bowl and sat it aside. "There was one person, a man several years older than me, who belonged to the Compact. He'd been trained in the peacekeepers faction—ah, not too unlike C-Sec, I suppose. I confided in him on occasion. He knew what I did, knew I started in the Compact, but he neither married nor fathered any children."

"A lot of what you're saying sounds common to me, well, at least with human men." She shrugged, picking up her spoon and scooping up some of the asari gumbo Gardner seemed so interested in making. "But especially those who didn't grow up in particularly warm and loving homes. Most of the time finding others to sort of … model themselves after, I guess, seems to help."

"I wish I could say it simply wasn't an option for me, but I won't do you the disservice of lying to you." He took a sip of the ice water accompanying his meal. "I never had the notion to look for something like that with another, let alone the courage to try to form those bonds, to try and let myself grow close to someone else, when I couldn't even handle the love my wife and child gave me."

She frowned, turning her attention to her tray, mouth taking on a downward cast. After a moment, she sighed. "How do you feel about seeing Kolyat now?"

"Terrified," he said, not needing to contemplate his answer.

Looking up at him, she searched his face, spoon still held in her hand, food waiting to be eaten. "You really think he'll hate you?"

He raised a brow ridge, picking up his own spoon. "Wouldn't you?"

"I—I don't know." She looked down at her hand. "Maybe at first … but I think once I got over the initial shock, I'd be glad to have the chance to see my father again if I were him." Finally, she took her first bite, watching him as she chewed.

He considered her words for a moment, dipping into his gumbo. "I pray you are right."

"It's probably not my place to say, but I'm glad you decided to look for him. Even if all of this about being disconnected wasn't the case. I think it's good." She gave him a soft smile when he met her gaze again. "For both of you."

Blinking once, he found his own lips turning up in a smile, and he gave her a bemused shake of his head.

"What?" she asked, smile growing as she raised an eyebrow.

"My apologies, it's just …" he said, smile widening as he let his gaze roam over her features, "... sometimes, you astound me."

She let out a chuckle, both eyebrows arching high. "Astound you? How so?"

"You are so compassionate. It is kind of you to be concerned with what is good for a dying man and his son you've never met." He brought his spoon to his mouth.

Her smile faltered, eyebrows easing back down her face. "I don't think of you as 'a dying man', Thane. I think of you as someone I've come to care about … who happens to be ill. Why wouldn't I be concerned with what's good for you and your son?"

Brow ridges dipping inward, he shook his head, hastily chewing and swallowed. "Forgive me." He took a sip of his water, wiping the napkin over his mouth. "I didn't mean … there are so few I have encountered in my life who are capable of thinking beyond themselves and … I—I suppose I admire you, Jane." Sweet Arashu, but she did turn him into a floundering fool at times. "Despite the things you have endured, and the things you still struggle with—both personally and professionally—you still _care_."

A blush spread out over her face, and she averted her gaze. "I think maybe the things I've been through and the things I struggle with make me care _more_."

"Indeed." He reached out without really meaning to, settling his hand on her shoulder, and she met his gaze again, emerald eyes wide and searching his. "It is a beautiful thing, something the galaxy needs far more of."

She scoffed but smiled, reaching over to pat his knee. "What the galaxy needs more of is people in positions of authority who don't have their heads shoved up their asses and are willing to listen to reason."

He laughed, letting his hand fall away from her shoulder. "You make a fair point."


	7. Life's Not Fair

**Life's Not Fair**

Thane waited patiently for Shepard by the _Normandy's_ airlock. Garrus stopped her over by the galaxy map, and he seemed to be telling her something important—if the intense set of his mandibles and widened stance were any indication. She turned her head, gaze finding Thane from across the room, lips parted and brow starting to furrow. Turning her attention back to Garrus, she said something, waving her hand in Thane's direction. Garrus glanced his way and then back to Shepard. She took a deep enough breath her shoulders shifted upwards, despite the weight of her armor, and she nodded.

She made her way through the CIC to stop in front of Thane, talking in hushed tones, "Garrus just got a lead on someone he's been tracking, here on the Citadel. This is huge for him … I don't want to put you in a position to have to share private details with anyone else if you don't want to, but it _would_ be helpful to him if he joined us." Her brows lifted and dipped down in the middle, lips pinched and curling up at the ends, clearly she felt torn between the two of them.

Thane glanced over at Garrus to see the turian watching them, mandibles fluttering in an antsy rhythm. He dropped his gaze to the floor for a moment before turning back to Shepard and dipped his head. "As you wish, siha."

Instantly her features relaxed and a soft smile took over her mouth, as he suspected it would if he called her siha. "Are you sure?" she asked, voice just as soft as before.

"You trust him more than any other on this ship, and I trust you." He dipped his head again. "Yes, I am sure."

She reached out, the movement slow enough for him to track with ease and choose his response. He let her rest her gauntleted hand on his shoulder for a moment. "Thank you." She glanced behind her and waved her hand at Garrus.

Garrus wasted no time, jogging over to them and nodded to Thane. She smiled, seemingly at no one in particular, and opened the airlock. The bustle of the Citadel greeted them as they made their way through clearance and into C-Sec. Thane opened his mouth to protest when she stopped in front of one of the desks, but he didn't have any better idea of where to start to find Kolyat with time running out. Thankfully, the human behind the desk, Captain Bailey according to his identification, didn't seem too interested in asking excessively detailed questions. Garrus hummed as Shepard spoke to Bailey, revealing the surface details of what Thane was after on the Citadel and why, leaving out the fact it was his son they searched for.

"How did you know he would be willing to help?" Thane asked Shepard as they made their way to find Mouse.

She glanced at him and shrugged. "Bailey's not exactly a red tape kind of cop. When I first came back to the Citadel, they tagged me as deceased, and he offered to clear it up for me fast and easy instead of making me go through all the proper channels." She smirked. "Besides, I'm a Spectre."

Garrus chuffed, drawing both of their attention. "I got raked over the coals for far less, working in C-Sec."

"You don't miss it?" Thane asked, curious to know more about the turian Shepard counted as her dearest companion aboard the _Normandy_.

"No, the red tape she's talking about made it impossible for me to do my job." He hummed, looking down at Thane. "Has she told you how they wanted me to give up my investigation into Saren? If I'd been the detective they wanted me to be …. I knew Saren was no good, and they should've let me keep digging until I had the evidence to prove it, might have saved a lot of lives. I joined Shepard the first chance I got." He turned to Shepard, looking down at her profile with an affectionate gaze. He flicked a mandible and smirked. "Best decision I've ever made."

"Yeah, well, let's see if you still think that when we go through the Omega 4 Relay." She turned her head to look at him over her shoulder and smiled. "You've been one hell of a sidekick, though."

He chuffed, and Thane expected him to argue, but instead, Garrus smirked. "You just keep me around for my exquisite style. And," he said, dragging the word out, heavy in his subvocals, "because I'm a better shot than you."

Shepard snorted. "Whatever you need to tell yourself to sleep at night, Vakarian."

Thane chuckled, enjoying the lighthearted rivalry. He wondered what it would be like to have that with someone else, to have with her. Rivalry and competition was discouraged in his training, though, naturally it still cropped up from time to time. There were a few, early on, who thought themselves his equals, but inevitably, it became clear his mastery of the assassin skill set was far superior. There was a time he considered it a source of pride and it made him complacent, but that very complacency cost him everything he ever held dear.

He blinked, taking in the man in front of him when they finally found Mouse. He didn't think it could possibly be the same Mouse, the same drala'fa whom he'd spent more time with than his own son, bribing the child for information with trinkets and sweets. Still, he saw the memory of the child's face superimposed on the flesh and blood face of the man before him, and he knew it was indeed the same Mouse.

Thane smirked at the human's skittishness, his confusion and fear at finding Thane and Shepard there to speak with him. Thane reached out, putting his hand on the man's shoulder. "Be still Mouse. You can change your pants in a moment."

Garrus chuffed, the sound filled with amusement, and took a few steps away, turning his gaze out over the masses of the Citadel. Thane knew the turian could still hear them, if he was of a mind to listen. Thane had spoken to Shepard some already about his work on the Citadel and his drala'fa contacts, she'd been shocked initially, to learn he involved children, but he'd assured her that he never endangered them. He wasn't entirely certain what her thoughts were on the matter, especially with one of those very children standing in front of her. It took some coaxing, but between Shepard's promise to keep Mouse safe, and Thane's vow he would not be named, he eventually gave them the information they needed.

They spoke briefly about what they'd learned from Mouse as they returned to C-Sec. It appeared to be news to Garrus that Thane had a son, which relieved him, knowing Shepard kept his secret, even from her closest friend. Once they arrived at C-Sec, Captain Bailey dithered on whether or not to fulfill his end of the agreement, and Thane felt an irrational rush of anger—which he swiftly locked away behind what remained of his battle sleep. He was used to law enforcement willing to accept bribes and 'look the other way', in his profession, he'd made it a point to learn the names of many like the captain. It made things easier for Thane to take many lives, disappointing that it may stand in the way while he tried to save one instead.

At last, the human found an acceptable solution to his predicament and told his subordinates to bring in Elias Kelham, the man who hired Kolyat to commit murder. Thane paced while they waited, needing to keep himself preoccupied, he didn't go far, no more than a few feet in either direction from Shepard. Garrus leaned against the wall next to an interrogation room, talking quietly with one of the officers on duty—someone he'd said he recognized from his time in C-Sec. Shepard, however, stood quietly nearby, tracking Thane's movements in her peripherals while she scanned the crowds through the entrance to the Zakera Wards. He found it soothed him to know she cared enough to keep an eye on him, even as she remained vigilant for threats.

She reached out, fingertips brushing across his sleeve as he made his twentieth pass. He stopped and looked up, following her gaze to the human, the man being more carried than led in by two C-Sec officers; it seemed as if he did not make their job easy. Thane stepped back by her side, in part, he realized, because he didn't entirely trust himself not to snap the man's neck as they led him passed. The gods guide him, Thane stayed in his battle sleep for far too long and woke up in very troubling times.

Shepard spoke to another officer, telling him to inform Bailey they were ready, and the captain came back out of hiding. Kelham's lawyer wasn't far behind, demanding to speak to his client, but the captain offered to stall him. Thane looked at Shepard, hoping perhaps her Spectre status would serve them in the matter, if need be.

"Garrus?" She nodded her head for him to join them when the turian looked up. "Brush off your interrogation skills," she said when he stood with them again. She turned to Thane, "I want you to stick to the shadows, just stand there looking … well, just be you. If he gives Garrus trouble, I'll handle it, get him talking."

"Are you certain?" Thane asked, not really wanting to question her plan, but needing to know, no matter what, they would not leave there without knowing where to find Kolyat.

She gave him a quick jerk of her head in the affirmative. "Just follow my lead."

"As you wish." He tucked his hands behind his back and dipped his head to her.

They went into the interrogation room, finding Kelham strapped into a chair. The sight made Thane question the way things worked at C-Sec. He was familiar with the occasional officer willing to take bribes, and undoubtedly more than a few were guilty of excessive use of force, but the room seemed _designed_ to allow for less than legal methods of interrogation. The man turned to the sound of their entry, calling out to Bailey and demanding to see his lawyer.

Thane moved into the shadows as Shepard requested, allowing the dim light to just barely illuminate his presence and waited, hands behind his back. She leaned against the wall just behind Kelham, out of his line of sight, and the man twisted, instinctually trying to keep his eyes on all of the predators stalking him.

Garrus stopped at Kelham's feet and crossed his arms over his chest, clearing his throat to draw the human's attention to him. "You took out a hit on someone, we need to know who it is you're trying to have killed and where to find them."

Kelham smirked. "If I did take out a hit on someone, which I didn't, why would I tell you anything? Give me a break. I want to see my advocate."

Garrus flicked a mandible. "And if I worked for C-Sec, I might actually care."

"You're not with C-Sec? Right." Contempt flashed over the man's features, twisting his lips in a sneer. "Well then who the hell are you?"

"Me?" Garrus lifted his shoulders, mandibles flaring. "Just a concerned citizen. But she," he said, nodding towards Shepard, making Kelham strain again to try to see her, "is a Spectre." He tilted his head towards Thane. "And the guy over there … hmmm, well, he's the one who's going to break your neck if you don't stop wasting our time and tell us who it is you're trying to have killed."

Thane blinked, remaining silent and passive, reminding himself to trust in the ploy; Shepard would assure he found Kolyat, hopefully before it was too late. Her gaze drifted to him, and the corner of her mouth twitched up in a smirk.

Kelham narrowed his eyes, undoubtedly trying to get a better look at Thane. He licked his lips. "Commander Shepard was the only human Spectre, and she died. Try again." The bravado in his voice sounded forced to Thane's ears.

Terror flashed through Shepard's eyes, making Thane want to go to her, but before he could do something so foolish, she locked it away again. Pushing off the wall, she moved at a slow pace, reaching out to drag her fingers along the chair keeping Kelham restrained. She stopped next to him, looking down at him, face passive. "If I'm dead, then I guess it won't matter if I take you out, will it?"

Disbelief dissolved into fear, as Kelham studied Shepard's face. She smirked, pacing away from him, moving behind Garrus, patting the turian on the shoulder as she passed.

"What do you think a Spectre could do to a man like Kelham? Besides simply killing him, of course?" She stopped at Garrus' right, glancing up at him. "Not that anyone would even care. Spectres can do pretty much whatever they want."

"Hmmm." He glanced down at her, mandibles fluttering lightly as he appeared to mull over her question. "You could order C-Sec to raid his businesses daily. Have him arrested and held indefinitely for suspected treason. Seize his assets. Put him on—"

"Bailey does whatever I want." Kelham scoffed, turning his head away from Shepard and Garrus. "He won't let you touch me."

"Do you see Bailey?" Shepard asked Garrus, shifting her weight to one hip and crossing her arms. She shook her head and shrugged. "I don't see Bailey."

"No, no Bailey here." Garrus hummed. "Then again, Bailey's just a C-Sec captain, a dirty one, so it seems. Who's going to listen to him over a Spectre?"

"I'm not your enemy here, Kelham." She turned her head back to look at him and shifted her weight again to stand up straight. "Yet. Tell us who you're trying to have killed, and I'll let you walk out the door. Force me to go somewhere else to find out, and I won't be responsible for whatever my friend over there in the corner decides to do with you." She sucked a breath in between her teeth and shook her head. "He's got quite the imagination."

Kelham's gaze drifted back to Thane, but Thane said nothing, did nothing. Just watched and waited, staying to the shadows, 'being him' as she suggested. Some part of him ached at being painted as a ruthless killer, someone willing to end a life simply because he didn't get his way. Still, if it helped him to find Kolyat, he would do whatever Shepard asked of him, _be_ whatever she required. Perhaps it wasn't an entirely inaccurate depiction.

The man turned his attention back to Shepard. "You have me strapped down in a C-Sec interrogation room. No way you're letting me walk away from anything. I'm not saying a damn thing more until my advocate gets here."

Shepard shrugged. "Thane?" She looked over her shoulder at him.

"Yes, Shepard?" He turned his head a little to look at her more fully.

"What would you say is one of the most painful things you can do to someone without leaving a mark?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. Amonkira be praised, the huntress in her could be rather unnerving.

"Ah, a variety of nerve strikes induce significant amounts of pain and leave little to no bruising if applied properly," he said, hoping she didn't truly intend to have him torture the man.

She turned a little, as if clearing the way for him. "Mind coming over here and showing me a few of those places on Mr. Kelham?"

"Certainly." Thane stepped out of the shadows, but before he'd taken more than two steps, the man called out.

"Wait!"

Shepard held up a hand, and Thane stopped, tucking his hands behind his back once more and waited, relieved the ploy worked. She turned her attention back to Kelham who fell silent again.

Garrus hummed. "You can either tell us now and walk out of here, or tell us later and be carried out on a stretcher, if you're lucky. A body bag if you're not. You've really got nothing to lose. Either way, you'll tell us."

"Shit." Kelham looked down, giving his head a little shake. "His name's Joram Talid. He's a turian running for Intendant of Zakera Ward."

"Where can we find him?" Garrus asked, mandibles falling still.

Kelham sighed, lifting his head to meet Shepard's gaze. "His apartment's in the eight hundred blocks."

She nodded, turning to move to the door. "Let's go."

"Wait," Kelham called after her, tugging against his restraints. "At least tell me who gave you my name?"

Shepard lifted her eyebrow, looking over her shoulder. "I'll send someone in to let you out of the restraints." She glanced at Thane and Garrus, and they fell into step behind her, following her out of the interrogation room.

As soon as the door slid closed behind them, Kelham's advocate rushed for the door. Bailey waved them over, and Thane listened while he asked Shepard for the details of why Kelham hired Kolyat. Again, she gave him only the bare minimum, avoiding naming Kolyat or acknowledging his ties to Thane. Bailey provided them with a few more pieces of information about Talid, apparently the turian ran an anti-human campaign, and the fact appeared to upset Shepard. She and Bailey spoke about the way the galaxy viewed humanity for a few moments more before Garrus asked about someone calling themselves 'Fade'. Bailey provided him with a location for some of Fade's contacts, stating it was the best he could do, apparently Fade received inside information and was skilled at avoiding C-Sec.

"Let's look into Talid first," Shepard said, settling a hand on Garrus' arm. "This thing's more time sensitive."

Garrus took a deep breath and nodded. "The sooner, the better. I don't think I'll be able to really focus on this collector mission until I've settled this score, Shepard."

She nodded, leading the way to the patrol car Bailey offered them use of. "We'll get it taken care of, Garrus. I promise. We won't leave the Citadel until we have answers."

"I still have contacts on the Citadel," Thane said, turning his palm out to Garrus in a show of good faith. "Perhaps they can be of service."

Garrus hummed, glancing at Shepard, but her attention stayed on Thane, a soft smile turning up the corners of her lips. "Hmmm. Yeah, if this thing Bailey mentioned doesn't lead us anywhere, I'd appreciate whatever information you can get."

They climbed into the patrol car, and Shepard sat in back next to Thane. It surprised him, with her superior rank, he expected her to sit up front with the C-Sec sergeant, but she muttered something about Garrus needing the extra leg room. He supposed it was true enough, but he found Garrus' soft huff of laughter at the statement interesting in its contradictory tone. Thane wanted to talk to her, wanted to recapture the easy flow of conversation the two of them shared while alone, believing it might help to distract him from the anxious thoughts pressing in around him, but with the C-Sec sergeant driving the skycar, he didn't think it wise. Still, he found her gaze from time to time in the dim cabin of the vehicle, and her gentle smile reassured him.

When they arrived to the eight hundred blocks, Amonkira willed they find their quarry almost immediately. The turian politician stood talking to a small group, his krogan bodyguard just a few feet away. They split up, Shepard moving to the catwalks to follow from above, Garrus blending in with the crowd, and Thane intent on moving to the shadows.

He bowed his head as the other two left him to take up their positions. "Amonkira, Lord of Hunters, grant that my hands be steady, my aim be true, and my feet swift. And should the worst come to pass, grant me forgiveness." Glancing up, he used the flow of the crowd to hide himself, turning just as someone passed, walking alongside them before slipping into the shadows of an alley.

It seemed difficult for him, trusting in another to guide him in such a vital task. But he'd watched Shepard closely since his time aboard the _Normandy_ , and he knew she would do everything in her power to ensure he made it to Kolyat on time. She was a siha, after all, and if her feelings for Thane guided her to try a little harder … he'd deal with the guilt of using her heart as a tool later, when Kolyat was safe. Garrus' offer to help came unexpected but not unwelcome. Still, Thane only trusted Garrus in so much as she did. It was Shepard in whom he put his faith and trust. He moved from shadow to shadow, making use of alleyways, rooftops, and catwalks when need be. Anxious, he asked her for updates regularly, and if she found his persistence annoying, her voice betrayed nothing.

Garrus proved more useful than Thane anticipated; he located Kolyat first. "I think I've found him, unless there happens to be another drell on the Citadel in the eight hundred blocks." And then, two heartbeats later, while Thane still scanned the crowd, Garrus said, "It's him, he's got eyes on Talid."

"I see him," Shepard said just as Thane saw him, too.

Thane sucked in a breath, the sight of his son, the clear turmoil written on the all too familiar yet somehow completely different face, tore at him. "As do I."

"Garrus, can you intercept Talid? Stall him?" Shepard asked.

"You got it," said Garrus.

Thane glanced up at the catwalks in time to see her jump over the edge of the railing, sliding down the side before landing on her feet in a crouch. She stood, brushing off her hands and glanced over her shoulder toward Talid, who remained engaged in conversation with Garrus, his bodyguard blocking him from Kolyat's sight. Kolyat glanced up as Shepard approached, blinking in confusion as she smiled at him.

Thane couldn't hear them from his position, but he remained hidden for the time being as he moved closer, afraid his presence might entice Kolyat to follow through with attacking his target despite the crowded Wards and the heavily armed and armored woman standing in front of him. She held her hand out to him in greeting. As soon as Kolyat reached across himself, sliding his hand into her grip, Shepard reached around behind him and drew the pistol he carried secured beneath his jacket. Then, and only then, did Thane reveal himself, stepping out of the shadows to walk towards his son.

"... you can't just—" Kolyat sounded irate, but she cut him off with a wave of her free hand.

"Yes, yes I can." She looked up, glancing around, gaze finding and settling on Thane for a couple of seconds before turning her attention back to Kolyat. "Your father wants to speak with you, Kolyat."

At the mention of Thane, Kolyat became instantly more alert, gaze darting around until he found Thane closing the last of the distance between them. "Father?" For a brief moment, nothing more than a whispered breath of time, he became the child standing on the shores of Kahje, broken-hearted and looking to his father to set the world right again. Then, it disappeared, anger and disgust sweeping across his features with neck-breaking speed. "This—this is a joke. Now? Now you show up?"

It tore at Thane, ripping open old wounds, driving a hole through his heart, shredding the last of his battle sleep more efficiently than anything else ever possibly could have—save Irikah coming back to life. He stopped in front of his son, the boy now a man, grown to be taller than Thane. "Kolyat, I …."

Shepard brought her hand up to her comm. "Garrus, get Talid out of here." She glanced at Thane, handing him Kolyat's weapon. "I'll leave you two to talk."

"No." Thane reached out, grabbing her wrist as she turned before the thought even crossed his mind to stop her. "My apologies," he said, letting go as she turned back around. "Please, it would mean a lot to me if you stayed."

Shepard smiled, something akin to approbation lighting her eyes as she nodded her head. "Sure, I'll stay."

Kolyat scoffed, the derision another dagger in Thane's bleeding heart. "Even now you can't handle the thought of being alone with me?" He wasn't wrong, not even close.

"I deserve your anger and worse." Thane lowered his gaze, letting his son see the guilt he felt as he holstered the gun at his back. "I left because I thought you would be safer, have a better life without me. I didn't want this for you, Kolyat. Your mother didn't want this for you."

Kolyat crossed his arms over his chest, glaring at Thane. "Mother's dead. She doesn't want anything, and you have no _right_ to want anything for me. You left me … left both of us."

"I did." Thane squeezed his eyes closed for a moment, blinking to clear the threat of tears when he opened them again. "And I shouldn't have. Your mother died because I wasn't there, the men who killed her did so to get at me. It's my fault."

"What?" The shock and grief in Kolyat's voice was nearly too much for Thane to bear, but bear it he must.

"After her body went to the deep, I went to find them. The trigger men. The ringleaders." Thane shifted his gaze to Shepard, finding strength in her presence, even if sorrow clouded her eyes. He turned back to his son. "I hurt them. Eventually killed them. When I went back to see you, you were—older."

 _Happier, adjusted to your new life with a kind, loving family who clearly gave you so much more than I ever did. And I was a shattered, broken man who would have brought nothing but a landslide of darkness and grief back into your life. Forgive me, Kolyat, by the gods, please forgive me._

"I should have stayed with you." Taking a deep, painful breath, he closed his eyes, bowing his head. "Kolyat, I'm—I'm dying."

"This—this isn't even about me. It's about you." Kolyat narrowed his eyes, shaking his head when Thane met his gaze again. "You haven't come for _me_ , you came for _you_. To clear your conscious and make peace before you die. Well, I guess it's too bad you waited so long, huh? You'll have to find your peace somewhere else."

"I didn't come to make peace, or to clear my conscious." Thane shifted, brow ridges dipping. He understood why Kolyat felt upset, but he expected his aunts and uncles to teach him to comport himself better, despite his emotions. "I came to _bring_ you peace, to make sure you don't make the same mistakes I did."

"I'm not your responsibility." Kolyat shook his head and waved a dismissive hand. "Not anymore."

Shepard let out an exasperated huff of breath, drawing Thane and Kolyat's attention. She cocked her hip, crossing her arms. "Look, kid—"

He glared at her. "I'm not a child."

"Then stop acting like one," she snapped, her voice taking on a heated edge. "Your dad has maybe a year left to live. You can spend that time trying to mend things with him and have the chance to know what it's like to have him in your life before it's too late, or you can keep acting like a petulant brat and regret it for the rest of your life."

"Shepard …." Thane held a hand out to her, shocked and dismayed by the intensity of her reaction and the callousness of her words. "Please. He has every right—"

"Life's not fair, Thane." She turned her attention back to Kolyat, fire dancing in her eyes. "In fact, sometimes it just plain sucks. Grow up and deal with it, because it's not going to get any easier." She glanced at Thane, and he saw the pieces she'd been holding together over the last few days starting to fall apart. "For either of you. You leaving the way you did may have been a dick move, I don't know. I'm not arguing on that point either way, but two wrongs don't make a right." She turned back to Kolyat. "You want to be treated like an adult? Accept the fact your father is standing in front of you, trying to tell you how sorry he is for his decisions and how much he loves you."

Shame washed over Kolyat's face and he lowered his head, his arms dropping limply to his sides. "Father, I …." Tears welled up, streaming down his face, dripping to the Citadel floor.

Thane glanced at Shepard again, baffled by both her behavior and the response it drew from Kolyat. She widened her eyes, jerking her head, just a small twitch, in Kolyat's direction, silently mouthing the words 'help him'. Hesitantly, Thane reached out, putting his hand on Kolyat's shoulder, and his son collapsed into his arms.


	8. Stained Soul

**Stained Soul**

Thane sat with Kolyat in Life Support on the _Normandy_. Shepard urged them to return to the ship so they might speak in private. Thane felt torn but only marginally. He'd wanted to return the favor, help her and Garrus in locating his target, but Thane needed the time with Kolyat, and Kolyat seemed willing. How could he refuse? Even if parading his son through a Cerberus vessel hardly seemed like the wisest of choices.

Shepard had mentioned asking Tali to replace him, but Garrus declined, insisting the quarian wouldn't understand and requested Jack instead. Thane was certain the decision revealed something valuable about the nature of Garrus' quest, as well as the turian's mindset, but it wasn't the time to consider those things too closely.

Kolyat looked around the room, his gaze catching on Thane's weapons before moving on. Thane watched, in awe of the man sitting across from him. He'd grown into a handsome man, tall and broad-shouldered, with bright, beautifully colored, vibrant scales. He looked healthy, well taken care of. Finally, Kolyat looked at Thane, gaze sweeping over him.

Thane shifted under the scrutiny and cleared his throat. "You must have questions."

Kolyat glanced around the room again, gaze flicking towards the door as if he checked his escape route. "If you are dying, what are you doing with these people?"

"Shepard found me, asked for my help on her mission." It wasn't where Thane expected to start, but it was a valid question. "She's—the collectors have been attacking human colonies in the Terminus, abducting the residents. She's putting together a team to put a stop to these attacks."

Kolyat turned his attention back to Thane, narrowing his eyes. The black markings swooping down over his cheeks pulled in, dancing over his face as he clenched and released his jaw. "Why you? You're sick, you should be in a hospital, not pretending to be a hero."

Thane winced, undoubtedly the exact response Kolyat hoped to elicit. "I'm not yet so ill that I can't still be of service. This is a good cause. Shepard is an honorable woman."

Kolyat watched Thane, expression inscrutable, letting the silence linger for several long seconds. Finally, he asked, "Is it Kepral's Syndrome?"

"Yes." Thane folded his hands on top of the table, fighting to keep himself centered.

Kolyat let out a soft hum. With the high prevalence rate of Kepral's among drell, it must not have come as much of a surprise for him. Thane wouldn't even be the first in his family to fall victim to the disease. Kolyat's grandmother—Irikah's mother, Rashata—also died from Kepral's Syndrome. Only an infant when Rashata went to the sea, it was likely Kolyat's memories of her consisted of sensory input, no complex thoughts or emotions, nothing to bring him pain or grief.

He shifted in his chair, leaning forward to rest his arms on the table, the leather of his black and blue jacket creaking with the movement. "How far down are you on the transplant lists?"

"I—I'm not on the transplant lists." Thane swallowed, trying to prepare himself for the direction the conversation was taking. He wished Shepard was there, offering him one of her encouraging smiles.

Kolyat narrowed his eyes before closing them completely, shaking his head in denial or dismay, perhaps both. He inhaled, slow and deep before opening his eyes again, voice croaking when he asked, "Why not?"

Thane lowered his gaze. "There are others … more deserving, and I … the disease has advanced enough at this point, I suspect organ transplantation would not sustain me for long. The damage has already spread, I …."

"You're just going to let yourself die?" Tone incredulous, Kolyat hissed. "Not even going to try to fight it?"

Thane took a slow, deep breath, studying the scales on his clasped hands as if they might hold the answer to how to explain such a choice to his son. "I am at peace with the decision."

Kolyat slammed his palms down on the table, startling Thane enough to make his gaze snap back to his son again. White-hot anger flared in his blue eyes, his gaze boring through Thane. "I'm not. You don't—you don't get to just … how could you?" His brow ridges pulled in, lip lifting in a sneer. "How could you just leave me? Ten years! I haven't seen you in _ten years_ , and you show back up to tell me you are responsible for Mother's death and now you plan to just _let_ yourself die, too?" Tears started to well up in his eyes again, and he clenched his jaw, shaking his head. "And with a human woman? What is she to you, Father? Don't tell me she isn't anything more than this ship's captain. I saw the way you looked at her; as if she's the only thing keeping you breathing …" He scoffed, shaking his head again and blinking away his tears. "... but no, not even that, even she won't keep you breathing."

Thane schooled his features, propping his elbows on the table to bring his clasped hands up in front of his face. "Shepard is my friend, Kolyat. She has been kind to me, beyond what I deserve, and she helped me to find you."

Kolyat leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest. He let out a soft, barely audible scoff and shook his head, his gaze trailing away from Thane. "Friend. Right. So then, are all of your new friends going to yell at me, too?"

"I don't think she intended …" Thane opened his hands, waving one of them as he gave Kolyat a light shake of his head. How could he possibly explain anything to Kolyat about Shepard's methodology? Yet it worked, the two of them sat together, talking to each other for the first time in ten years. "… she was trying to help."

Kolyat scoffed, shaking his head, turning his gaze off towards the shelves filled with weapons—evidence of Thane's sinful life. "She called me a petulant brat."

Thane shifted forward, bringing his hands together once more. "Perhaps we can talk about something other than Shepard? I'm sure you have questions about your mother, about your childhood …."

Kolyat's voice sounded colder, distant, when he asked, "It was her idea for you to come find me, wasn't it?"

"She—no, we talked about my life some … and I told her about you and about your mother." A difficult confession for Thane to make in light of Kolyat's accusations, especially given Thane hadn't talked to anyone else about his family in more than ten years. "After, I started questioning my choices and decided to try to call you. Your aunts and uncles said they haven't heard from you in months, so I tracked you down. Learned what you intended to do. I asked Shepard to help me find you on the Citadel."

"You tracked me down?" Kolyat turned his attention back to Thane, brow ridges dipping in again. "Like one of your targets?"

Thane shifted, unused to having to defend his decisions and actions to anyone else. "I used the skills and resources at my disposal, yes." He waved a hand, doing his best to keep his tone level, despite the shock of irritation. "How else would you suggest I go about finding you?"

Huffing, Kolyat shook his head, the corner of his mouth lifting in thinly veiled disgust. "Why did you stop me? What does it matter to you? So what if I killed someone, isn't it exactly what you've done your entire life?"

"I … yes. I was given to the Compact at the age of six and trained as an assassin." Thane shifted uncomfortably, finding it more difficult than he imagined to say those things directly to his son. "It is all I know." He took his elbows off the table, bringing his hands back down to rest flat against the surface. "It was not a choice I made, Kolyat."

Pressing his palms against the table, Kolyat leaned forward, lifting a brow ridge in challenge. "You are not a child or in the Compact anymore, Father."

Thane looked down at his son's hands; good strong hands, they should be used for crafting things, creating beauty, not destroying life. "No. I left the Compact when your mother and I fell in love. I wanted to build a life together with her, and she did not … approve of my profession. I tried to work other jobs, but I had no skills aside from those learned in the Compact. I wasn't able to support a family working such menial jobs." He coughed into his fist, lungs aching as he cleared his throat and blinked, forcing himself to meet Kolyat's gaze. "Your mother and I discussed it, and we agreed that I would return to work as an assassin." He took a slow, deep breath, trying to soothe the flames licking at his insides. "We kept this from you because we didn't want this kind of life for you, Kolyat. Your mother would never want you to take another's life … not like this, not some stranger you were paid to kill."

Kolyat scoffed, letting his hands slide across the table's surface as he leaned back in his chair again. "In what way _would_ she want me to take a life?"

Thane waved his hand. "I only meant … if it were a matter of self-defense, or in defense of another …" He shook his head. "… not that she would _want_ you to. I'm afraid I'm not making myself clear."

Kolyat let out a soft huff and shook his head, disdain painting itself across his features. "It's clear you are a hypocrite."

His words hung in the air, thickening the atmosphere, tightening Thane's chest even more. Thane didn't know what to say. It seemed as if anything he said, any attempt to bridge the space between them, any move forward at all was met with contempt and aggression. What did Kolyat want from him? What did Thane need to say or do to convince Kolyat how desperately he wished he'd been there to protect Irikah, how sincerely he wished he'd been a better father to his son?

Thane swallowed, reaching for the first question to come to his mind that he thought might possibly lead to some sort of resolution. "Why did you accept the contract, Kolyat?"

Kolyat shrugged, defensive walls firmly back in place once more. "It was something to do. Why not?"

Thane softened his voice, disappointment seeping in around the edges, some reflexive response from oh so many years past. "Kolyat …."

Kolyat lowered his gaze, his shoulders slumping a fraction. "What do you want me to say, Father? That I did it to feel closer to you? To understand who you are, _what_ you are? Fine, yes, I did it because of you."

Thane felt as if someone had punched straight through his sternum to wrap their fist around his heart, ripping the organ free from his body only to toss it on the floor. Tears welled up in his eyes, but he blinked them away, forcing himself to remain composed despite the anguish he felt. It would do neither of them good for him to fall apart. Not for the first time, he wished Shepard was there, lending him her strength.

Kolyat let out a heavy sigh and pushed his chair back from the table. He stood, moving over to stand in front of the observation window, arms crossed, back to Thane. After a few moments of silence, his words came slow and soft, barely audible over the hum of the drive core. "I thought … I thought if I was able to make a name for myself doing what you do, if you were still out there somewhere, still alive … you might learn about me. I wanted you to know that I knew. And maybe … maybe if I was good enough, you would finally be proud of me, finally love me."

The tears came then, hot and biting at his eyes before spilling down over his cheeks, stealing his breath and making him gasp for air. He fought back the mournful sob threatening to claw its way free of his throat and pushed himself from his chair, legs feeling weak and useless. He wiped at his face, blinked his eyes, to no avail, the tears just kept coming, nearly blinding him. Still, he made his way to stand next to Kolyat, reaching out to press his palm against his son's face. Kolyat looked at him, and Thane saw that he was crying, too.

"Kolyat, I have _always_ been proud of you, and I have _always_ loved you. I have taken many bad things out of the world. You're the only good thing I ever added to it." Thane took a deep shuddering breath, letting his hand drop when Kolyat turned his face away. "I regret not being able to be the father you needed, the husband Irikah needed—I didn't know how to be. I would change that now if I could, but the past cannot be undone."

"Did you even try?" Kolyat asked, his voice barely a whisper.

Thane stared at Kolyat, lips parted, the words there on the tip of his tongue yet struggling to move past his lips. Finally, he found his voice. "I did, but not as hard as I should have … I can admit this now. And eventually, when I realized I was a failure, I retreated." Thane hung his head, tears dripping to the floor. "I am ashamed."

"So what happens now?"

Confused, Thane wiped at his face, looking back up at his son and shaking his head. "What do you mean?"

"You found me, stopped me from killing Talid." Kolyat turned to face him, scrubbing his hands over his face and letting out a heavy sigh. "You said what you needed to say. After I leave this ship, what happens? You're dying and you're going off with Shepard to save humans. What about me?"

"I …" Thane shifted, glancing down at his feet. " … I would like to keep in contact with you." He met Kolyat's gaze again, silently pleading with him to understand and agree. "I admit this mission isn't without its dangers, and I don't know for certain how long it will take, but when we are through, if we are victorious … and if you will permit, I would like to spend what time I have left with you."

Kolyat swallowed, his throat bobbing up and down as he turned his gaze back out at the drive core. The silence seemed to stretch endlessly before he finally said, "You can't go back to Kahje, it's too wet, it will only make you sicker."

Thane let out a huff of breath, holding his empty palms out to his son. "If it means spending time with you, I will gladly go to Kahje."

Kolyat shook his head, refusing to look at Thane. "If it means you'll die sooner, I won't go to Kahje." He hesitated, lips parted, before lowering his gaze to Engineering down below. "I'll … I'll stay on the Citadel."

Thane took a shuddering breath, relief and joy sweeping through him, filling him with a renewed calm and warmth. He took the statement as Kolyat's agreement to allow him back into his son's life. He wiped at his face once more. "If you prefer. I will go wherever you go, it doesn't matter where to me." He smiled, his entire body feeling lighter than it had in years. "Although, your aunts and uncles are worried about you."

"I'll call them later." Kolyat turned to look at Thane, lips pressed into a thin line. "You still won't apply for the transplant lists?"

"Kolyat, I …" How could Thane possibly tell him no? He knew it would prove to be a pointless endeavor, but if it satisfied Kolyat, he would try. "I will look into it. There are doctors here aboard the _Normandy_. I'm sure they can perform whatever necessary exams and contact the appropriate people."

"You will?" Kolyat raised a brow ridge, head tilting to the side almost as if he didn't believe Thane spoke the truth.

"I will." Thane dipped his head. "If this is what you ask of me, I will try to be placed on the transplant lists."

Kolyat's lip quivered as he sucked in a deep breath and nodded. "It's what I ask of you."

"Very well." Thane nodded, cementing the plan in his mind. He smiled, the last of his tears drying on his cheeks. "Thank you, Kolyat, for giving me this opportunity."

They watched the fluctuations of mass effect energy dancing around the drive core for a few moments in silence.

"Tell me about Mother, about those responsible." Kolyat's words came soft, empty of emotion once more.

Thane lowered his gaze to the floor, tucking his hands behind his back. He'd hoped Kolyat would be content to know what little he already shared about those responsible, but the request didn't surprise him. "I was sent to kill the leaders of a batarian slaver ring. They were preying on the hanar outer colonies. It was believed with the leaders dead, the other members of the slaver ring would disband, it was to be the end of things." He let silence fill the air between them for a few moments, lifting his gaze back out over the drive core. "Instead, they paid the Shadow Broker to find out who I was." Turning towards Kolyat, he searched his son's face. "But you see, making a name for oneself in this profession is not a good thing … they were afraid of me, so they went after my family instead. Waited until I was too far from home to stop them. They hired a hitman, a human named Stiv Kay. I don't … I don't know what her final moments were like, but I can imagine."

Kolyat closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, he tilted his head up, eyes moving rapidly behind his ocular scales. "'Kolyat! Kolyat, come quick.' Mother reaches out to me, fear twists her face, tightens her voice. It makes my heart race."

"Kolyat, no …." Thane reached out, putting his hand on Kolyat's shoulder, shaking him a little in an attempt to rouse him from the memory.

Kolyat grit his teeth, pulling away, stubbornly clinging to the memory. "She crouches before me, hands on my shoulders, looks me in the eye. 'Kolyat, you need to hide. Hurry! Quickly! Don't come out, no matter what you hear!' I don't understand, I'm scared. 'Why, Mother? What's happening? What's wrong?' I cling to her as she pulls me to my feet. 'I don't have time to explain. I'm sorry, Kolyat. I'm sorry. I love you, remember that, no matter what.'"

"Kolyat, please." Thane tried again, reaching for his son. "You don't need to do this."

"She puts me in the closet." Kolyat only brushed Thane's hand away again, forcing himself to relive those dark moments. "'Get in the secret room.' The door locks. I start to cry, try to twist the handle. 'No, Kolyat. You have to stay in there, please.' I can hear the tears in her voice. 'Please. You have to stay in there and be very, _very_ quiet. You cannot make a sound. Get in the secret room.' I let go of the handle, sit on the floor, push myself back into the corner and cover my mouth, fight to control my sobs."

Thane swallowed, relenting to Kolyat's desire. If Kolyat wished for Thane to hear Irikah's last moments so badly he would torture himself with the memory, Thane had no right to refuse. He clasped his hands, bowing his head, letting his heart whisper a silent prayer as his ears listened to the strained, desperate words coming from his son's lips.

"I hear something, someone coming inside the house. I hope it's Father, I'm scared," Kolyat said, and Thane felt another part of him tear away, cast down into the fathomless well of the pain and grief he carried over Irikah's death. "Mother screams and I freeze, my heart slams against my chest. I hear things falling, glass breaking. It can't be Father. I open the door to the secret room, biting my lip so I don't make a sound. Crawl inside and close the door behind me the way Father taught me. I can still hear her screams."

Kolyat stopped talking, and Thane opened his eyes to find Kolyat with his head bowed, tears streaking his face once more. "Her screams went on for so long, I thought they would never stop. When they did, I only wished she'd scream again, because when they stopped, I knew Mother was no more. When the police found me, I'd been in there for countless hours. Terrified to leave, paralyzed by shock. It took them another hour to coax me out." He shifted his weight, lifting his head to look out over the drive core once more, his voice soft and defeated as he asked, "You killed those who did this to her?"

Thane swallowed, struggling to find his voice. "I did."

"You said you hurt them," Kolyat said, turning to look at Thane, "eventually killed them."

"I … yes." Thane lowered his gaze, shame washing through him. "I allowed my anguish to drive me to do things to them that went against my training, I … took my time with them."

"Good."

Surprised, Thane lifted his head to meet Kolyat's gaze once more. Brow ridges dipping low, he shook his head. "No, Kolyat. It is not good. It's not something I am proud of. My skills are tools, meant to be used in my profession, where the responsibility of those acts lies with whoever hired me. The deaths of those men … what I did to them … it's my responsibility. Their blood stains _my_ soul."

Kolyat lifted his chin, defiance flashing through his eyes. "I'm glad you tortured them, I'm glad their deaths were not quick. Hers wasn't."

Thane wanted to argue with Kolyat, make him see reason, understand how terrible of an act it truly was, but he knew doing so would only push Kolyat away. Perhaps there would still be time to change his mind later. Kolyat turned away from the window and made his way back to the table, collapsing into the chair. He looked utterly exhausted.

Thane followed him, sliding into his seat and propping his elbows on the table. He clasped his hands together and then rested them against his lips. After a few moments of silence, Thane asked, "Your aunts and uncles, they have been good to you?"

Kolyat's lips turned up in a weak smile, the first Thane had seen from him. "Yes, Father. They were good to me. They took care of all my needs, and they love me. I never wanted for anything … except for you and Mother."

Thane took a steadying breath. "Tell me about your life with them. I want so much to know more about the man you have become."

Kolyat let out a humorless chuckle and rubbed his hand over his face. "Uncle Rone is … not at all like Mother. He is kind, but he is stringent. Mother was so …"

"Free," Thane said, a smile tugging at his lips as he waved his hand, "wild and brave."

"Yes." Kolyat smiled a little wider, a little … more real than before. "Uncle Drali reminds me of her in that way, but he's not around very often. Aunt Aleha is more stringent than Uncle Rone and less kind. Aunt Kelena is very patient and understanding. I didn't have many friends, and those I did, eventually outgrew me, I suppose." He dropped his gaze to the table, letting his words linger for a moment. "I did well enough in my studies, I went to secondary … but I left after two years. I didn't see the point. I didn't see the point in anything."

"I don't understand." Thane shifted in his seat, letting his brow ridges dip. "You seemed so happy when I returned to Kahje. I watched you, I saw you laughing and playing with other children your age. Rone and Kelena looked upon you with such fondness, as if you were their own."

"There were moments of happiness, yes. Stretches of time when things seemed … normal." Kolyat swallowed. "But, the longer I went without hearing anything from you …." He brought a fist to his mouth and cleared his throat. "I remembered Mother saying once that you were on the Citadel when you were away. I thought I might go there, perhaps I would find you. Instead, I found no record of your ever having been there—at all. Until a volus heard me say your name and asked who I was. When I gave him my name, he told me about a package you left for me."

Thane lowered his gaze, taking in his hands clasped before him on the table. "It was meant to be delivered to you after my death. They shouldn't have given it to you."

Kolyat let out a soft huff. "I told them you were dead. For all I knew, it was the truth."

"I see." Hearing the words stung more than Thane expected, but really, he couldn't fault Kolyat for his actions.

"I spent days reading the files, watching your vids." Kolyat leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table when Thane met his gaze again. "At first to make sense out of it all, but then just to see you, to hear your voice. I was so angry with you. I—I am still angry with you. But watching them made me think there might still be a chance you were alive, and if you were alive, I intended to find you. Whatever the cost."

"Then I am truly lucky to have found you when I did." An unnerving thought struck Thane just then. "That is, unless, of course … Talid wasn't the first?"

"No, Father." Kolyat rubbed a hand over his face. "Talid was the first."

 _Arashu be praised._


	9. Prolonging the Inevitable

**Prolonging the Inevitable**

His time with Kolyat left him exhausted. Shepard and the others had yet to return, but EDI assured him all was well. After escorting Kolyat back off of the _Normandy_ , Thane returned to Life Support to meditate on the day's events. He felt certain the conversation left Kolyat just as emotionally drained. The fire and fight he'd met his father with evaporated, leaving his shoulders slumped and his eyes dull by the time he left. They could have continued to talk until Shepard arrived, but after nearly two hours, Kolyat insisted he needed to return to his hotel to call Rone and Kelena before it became too late on Kahje, but he promised he'd call Thane the next day.

Thane gave himself an hour in the silence of Life Support, Kolyat's face etched onto the backs of his eyelids, voice echoing in his ears as he churned over the conversation they'd had. Oh, how his life had changed, so drastically, so irrevocably in the span of a few short weeks. All because of one, wild, human woman with hair the color of rubies and beautiful eyes, rivaling the most brilliant of emeralds. Only a siha could so completely upend his life and, so it would seem, prolong the inevitability of his passing—possibly twice over. What if the doctors determined he was fit for the transplant lists? Did he truly wish to expose himself to even greater pain and suffering as was certain to come with enduring such invasive surgeries? And to what end? They wouldn't cure his illness … but they would give him a few more years to make things right with Kolyat.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, he rose to his feet and headed to the elevator. He rode up to Shepard's cabin, informing EDI along the way that he intended to feed Shepard's fish. When he arrived, the door to the cabin slid open for him, and EDI directed him to where Shepard kept the fish food. He glanced at the label, and it suggested he use his fingers to pinch out the appropriate amount of food, but he didn't dare disrupt the tank's pH by introducing his venom into the water. Instead, he lifted the lid to the aquarium and opened the small bottle of food, gently tapping the flakes out over the water's surface.

Closing the aquarium once more, he stood there for a moment, watching the fish dart to the surface to nibble at the flakes floating atop the water. He replaced the cap on the bottle of food and glanced around Shepard's cabin before turning and putting the fish food back where he'd found it. He sucked in a deep breath, fighting off the urge to stroll through her cabin and look over her things again. It would be a violation of her privacy, though, and he respected her too much to do anything like that, regardless of his desire to learn more about her.

Instead, he turned back to the door and called the elevator back up. When it arrived, he hit the button for the second deck. It was time he fulfilled his promise to Kolyat. He thought Mordin might be better equipped than Dr. Chakwas to tell him whether or not he was a suitable candidate for the transplant lists. Taking the elevator down to the second deck, he smiled and dipped his head to Kelly when she glanced over her shoulder at him before making his way to the Tech Labs.

Mordin looked up from his work when the door opened. Blinking a few times, he tilted his head to the side and smiled. "Thane, pleasant surprise."

"Hello, Doctor." Thane returned his smile, crossing the floor to stand in front of the salarian's workstation. "I wonder if I might have a moment of your time."

"Of course." Mordin closed the lid on a centrifuge. "Good timing. Samples need to process." Meeting Thane's gaze, he asked, "How can I help?"

Thane brought his fist to his mouth and cleared his throat. "Might you be able to perform the necessary exams to determine whether I might be placed on the transplant lists?"

Mordin blinked again. "Surprised. Was under impression you prefer to let illness run its course."

"I—things have changed." Thane waved a hand before tucking them both behind his back.

"Hmm. Suspect other drell on _Normandy_ influenced decision. Familial connection apparent. Supraorbital ridge. Nasion. Facial plate fusing patterns. Son?" Mordin must have seen Thane's surprise because he blinked a few times and said, "No matter. Happy to help. Should go to Med Bay. Will need to undress, use exam table and equipment."

Thane took a deep breath and nodded, shaken by the salarian's ability to make such an accurate deduction. He turned back towards the door as Mordin rounded the table. "I would prefer if you refrained from discussing with anyone else any presumed familial connection between myself and the young man you saw today."

"Not a problem." Mordin waved a hand towards the elevator when the Tech Labs' door opened.

Thane offered the doctor a smile, grateful he'd accurately gauged Mordin's willingness to hold his confidence. "My thanks." He pressed the elevator call button and waited with his hands behind his back.

Together they rode down to the third deck and made their way to the Med Bay. Once Mordin explained the intrusion to Dr. Chakwas, she offered her assistance and supplied Thane with a hospital gown. He held the cloth in a fist, staring down at it for long seconds, feeling as if it were the worst kind of omen. He never wanted to die in a hospital, in a bed surrounded by machines, and yet there he was, preparing himself for what seemed like the exact inevitably. Taking a deep breath, he draped the gown over the edge of the bed and began to undress.

Once he had his gown tied into place, he turned back to the doctors and tucked his hands behind his back, one of them balling into a fist despite himself. He fought to remain calm, fear tickling at the back of his mind. Even with years of training—and he truly was one of the best—with his battle sleep suddenly gone again, he found it difficult to keep his emotions under control. Something, some part of himself, wanted nothing more than to run and hide, but he'd already done far too much of that in his life. He closed his eyes and lowered his head, listening as Mordin and Dr. Chakwas spoke quietly to one another across the room.

He stilled his mind as their footsteps approached, preparing himself for the feel of strange hands poking and prodding at his flesh. Prepared for the bright lights and overwhelming sounds of scans, invasive questions, and the sting of needles. He took a deep breath and pulled himself onto the exam table, turning his arm out to Dr. Chakwas as she tied a tourniquet around him, gentle, sure fingers searching for a vein. Mordin opened his omni-tool, the orange glow sweeping over Thane; the first of many scans, no doubt.

It wasn't long before they brought out more advanced equipment, performing other types of scans. They looked into his nose and throat and listened to his heartbeat. They handed him a device and asked him to breathe into it at varying rates, and then twice more, as hard as he could, after filling his lungs to capacity. The test left his chest aching, but it was nothing worse than he'd grown accustomed to after strenuous exercise. When at last they were finished, the two doctors retreated, affording Thane some modicum of privacy to dress once more.

"I'm sorry, Thane." Dr. Chakwas moved back to him as he pulled on his jacket. "Your scan results certainly aren't good. However, they don't appear to be significantly worse than your initial exam when you joined the _Normandy_."

"No need to apologize, Doctor. I am well aware of the severity of my condition." Thane tucked his hands behind his back, ready to hear the entire thing was nothing more than a waste of time. He knew Kolyat would be disappointed, but if there was nothing to be done, then there was nothing to be done.

"Blood oxygen levels low, but still within functional range." Mordin closed his omni-tool, crossing the room to stand in front of Thane as well and blinked. "Damage to lung tissue moderate, auxiliary damage to bronchial and nasal passages also moderate. Mild mucus accumulation in lungs. Mild heart enlargement, pancreatic inflammation. Can prescribe medications to reduce inflammation, may help prolong pancreatic functioning. Medications to aid in thinning and expelling of mucus. Recommend daily breathing treatments." Mordin paused to suck in a deep breath. "Will make calls, have you placed on transplant lists."

Thane's lips parted. It wasn't the answer he was expecting, not at all. "You think they'll allow me to be placed on the lists?"

Mordin smiled. "Will if I call."

"I—I see." Thane lowered his head, a multitude of emotions swirling through him, building up to a maelstrom threatening to consume him completely. "Thank you, Mordin." He'd been so ready to embrace death, so ready to let himself slip away from the galaxy, secure in his belief that his son was safe and he'd made the right decisions. But then … Shepard. Perhaps the most unsettling, was the small part of him, a part he tried very hard to not acknowledge, felt almost … hopeful.

"Happy to help." The doctor turned, walking out of the Med Bay when Thane looked up.

Not Dr. Chakwas, though. She stayed next to him, her eyes kind and gentle. "Are you sure this is what you want, Thane?"

He swallowed and shook his head. "No, but I have made a promise, and I will keep my word."

She frowned but nodded, turning her back to him and making her way over to her desk. "Would you like for me to start you on the medications Mordin recommended?"

"Ah—yes." He took a deep, pain-filled breath, trying to still his racing thoughts. He didn't want any of it. He wanted … he wanted to die by his own accord, he didn't want to prolong the inevitable. But he also wanted to spend as much time as he could with Kolyat … and Shepard. "My thanks."

"Alright." She glanced at him over her shoulder, a sympathetic smile on her lips. "Give me time to review your tests again to determine the proper dose." She turned away, looking down at the datapads on her desk. "I'll have EDI notify you when they're ready for you to pick up."

"Thank you, Dr. Chakwas. I'll be in Life Support if you require any more tests." He dipped his head at her when she met his gaze again.

Leaving the Med Bay, he realized the others were gathering for the evening meal. He intended to keep moving, make his way to Life Support and spend his time alone, in the silence, weighing out his thoughts and feelings on the new development, but instead, he stopped when Tali called out to him. He turned, watching her approach with curiosity, fighting to shove aside his other concerns for the time being.

He smiled when she came to a stop in front of him. "Good evening, Ms. Zorah."

The quarian chuckled, a light, titter of a sound. She waved her hand. "You don't have to call me that, you can just call me Tali."

Smile growing, he dipped his head. "Very well, Tali."

She glanced at the Med Bay and then back to him again. "Is everything okay?"

 _No, everything is certainly not okay._

He turned a little, glancing over his shoulder at the Med Bay door. "Ah. Nothing to be concerned with, just … routine exams."

"Oh. Well, come eat with us." She waved her hand towards the serving counter, a smile evident in her voice and the squint of her eyes behind her mask. "You spend too much time locked away in Life Support."

Thane chuckled. He did tell himself he was going to make a point of being more social, spending time with the rest of the crew. Perhaps taking some time to calm down before thinking on the idea of his health and future might allow him to approach the subject with clarity. He held his hand out, inviting her to lead the way. "As you wish."

He followed her over to the queue where they waited for their turns to collect their trays, and then he walked with her over to the tables, taking a seat across from her. A moment later, Grunt dropped down on the bench next to Thane with enough force to rock the entire bench and everyone sitting around the table. Thane suspected it was a deliberate act, but it wasn't one that bothered him in the slightest.

"Keelah," Tali muttered, eyeing Grunt, but the krogan only laughed. She turned her attention back to Thane. "So, you were born on the hanar homeworld?"

"That is correct." He nodded, removing the napkin from around his eating utensils and settling it in his lap.

"But the drell aren't from there originally; you lost your homeworld, too," Tali said, situating her dishes and preparing them for sterilization.

"Indeed, though the circumstances are rather unlike those of the quarians." In a concession, he tilted his head before adding, "However … I suppose the drell are every bit as responsible for our fate as the quarians."

"The quarians _are not_ responsible for losing Rannoch!" Her words hissed through the air, vehemence so thick in her tone, it nearly dripped across the table. "We were attacked and chased off of our homeworld by the geth!"

He stilled, running through his statement once again to understand what exactly triggered her ire. "My apologies, I only meant that it was the quarian's decision to create the geth which eventually lead to your losing Rannoch." He waved his hand, hoping his words would placate the young quarian. "As it was the drell's decisions to allow our populations to grow unchecked, to allow our lands to become polluted, stripped bare of resources. I didn't intend to cause offense."

Tali watched him for a moment, the soft, reflective glow of her eyes through her mask portraying a quiet indignation. It seemed he still didn't quite understand the nuances of polite conversation. She turned her attention back to her tray, running her food through the sterilization process.

"Tali," he said, but she didn't look up at him again. "I truly meant no offense. I sympathize with the plight of the quarians. I understand it wasn't the intentions of the quarians to create AIs, and certainly, your people had no intention of being betrayed by those same creations in such a horrific way."

"It's alright." Tali's gaze flicked back to him, and she tilted her head to the side, shoulder twitching up towards it before slumping back down once more. "I'm probably being too sensitive."

"If the quarians miss their homeworld so much, they should go take it back from the geth," Grunt said between shoving forkfuls of food into his oversized mouth.

She scoffed, turning her attention to Grunt. "Some of the quarians are already pushing the Admiralty Board to declare war on the geth and retake Rannoch."

"You don't sound as if you approve of this idea." Thane picked up his fork, using it to spear some sort of cylindrical, green vegetable on his plate.

Taking a deep breath, she let it out in a low, weary sigh. "I want us to return to Rannoch, nothing would make me happier. But the reapers are coming. We can't really afford to start a war with the geth right now."

"Ah." Thane lifted the fork to his mouth but before taking the bite, he asked, "Where do the quarians stand on the reapers? I understand the galaxy has remained largely skeptical of Shepard's claims."

She snorted, the sound indelicate and derisive. "It's worse than that, the Council declared Sovereign to be a geth construct." She met his gaze. "Which means, even though nobody is saying it officially, the quarians are being blamed for Sovereign's attack on the Citadel. This puts even more pressure on us to defeat the geth and reclaim Rannoch. As for the quarians, we _know_ Sovereign wasn't a geth construct, but as a people, we are no more resolved on _what_ exactly Sovereign was than any other species."

He furrowed his brow as he chewed, absently noting the almost nutty flavor of the vegetable, waiting to swallow before speaking, "That's illogical. Even were Sovereign a geth construct, the quarians can hold no responsibility for what the geth have done in their absence."

"Yeah, well, tell that to them." She waved a hand, the movement jerky, conveying agitation, but at least it wasn't directed at him. "So, what about the hanar and the drell? Where do you stand on the reapers?"

"It's unclear. Shortly after joining the _Normandy_ crew, Shepard shared everything she had on the reapers with me, and with her permission, I forwarded it to my contacts in the Illuminated Primacy." He used his fork to gather up more of the vegetables, finding their taste quite pleasant. "I don't know what they will do with the information, but I suspect they will consider it closely."

Just then, Garrus passed through the mess hall, heading back towards the Main Battery. Excitement—knowing Garrus' presence meant Shepard's return—washed through Thane, taking him by surprise. He cleared his throat, turning his attention back to his plate, putting aside the urge to go find her and listened as Grunt spoke to Tali of fighting two wars at once. Thane needn't have bothered, though, a few minutes later Shepard found him. The sound of footsteps and the shift in the air behind him alerted him to her presence. He glanced over his shoulder, spotting her instantly. Her gaze met his, and her face lit up, spreading his lips with a smile.

She stopped next to him, resting a hand on his shoulder and glanced down at his plate. Lifting her eyebrows, lips turning down at the corners, she tilted her head to the side. "Doesn't look bad." Her gaze sought his out again, and a soft smile spread across her lips. "I was going to grab a tray to take up to my cabin, I have some reports to look over, but I wanted to take a minute to debrief with you since we didn't get the chance earlier. Feel like coming up for a few when you're done?"

"Certainly." He dipped his head to her, heart stuttering in his chest as she squeezed his shoulder.

"Great." She stepped back, letting her fingers trail a way down his back as she let him go. "I'll see you in a bit, then."

He watched her as she made her way over to the serving counter, the line already having dissipated. When he turned back to the table, he found Tali watching him, the squint to her eyes telling him she was smiling. He returned her smile. Undoubtedly, she believed the rumors floating around about his and Shepard's involvement. He might say something, put an end to them, but he didn't feel as if it was really his place … and with what he felt for her, perhaps some part of him didn't want to disabuse the crew of the notion.

He finished his meal, doing his best not to appear too earnest. After taking his tray back to Gardner, he made his way to the elevator, keying in the top deck. Heart quickening, hands feeling restless at the thought of spending a few stolen moments alone with her again, he tucked his hands behind his back and shook his head at himself. The elevator opened, and before he'd stepped out, the door to her cabin slid open, bringing a foolish smile to his face.

Making his way inside, he glanced towards her desk, finding it empty. He headed down the stairs, spotting her sitting on the couch, her legs tucked beneath her as she read over a datapad. Her meal tray sat on the coffee table, her dinner only half gone. She glanced up, shock flashing over her face before shifting into a smile. She leaned forward, dropping the datapad on the table next to her tray.

"Hey, sorry, I didn't hear you come in." She waved her hand at the couch. "Have a seat."

"My apologies, the door opened for me, I thought you realized I had arrived." He dipped his head at the offer, moving to take a seat on the couch not far down from her.

"I told EDI to let you in when you got here." She turned sideways on the couch to face him and shrugged. "I just didn't hear the door, and you move so quietly."

He chuckled, relaxing back against the couch cushion. "I'll try to make more noise next time."

Grinning, she propped her elbow up on the back of the couch and threaded her fingers through her hair, resting her head on her palm. "I'm not sure I believe that's even possible for you."

"It does take effort," he said, returning her smile.

She hummed, the smile drifting away, and he could almost see her thoughts shifting. "I should probably apologize to you for snapping at Kolyat today. I thought maybe if I gave him someone else to hate for a minute, it might make it a little easier for you to get your foot in the door, you know?" She sucked on her teeth. "And … his attitude was grating on my nerves, so, sorry."

He let out a soft, humorous huff, understanding completely. "Indeed. It seems your ploy worked, however. He remains less than fond of you, but we spent some time talking. I think it was good." Simply being in her presence eased him, soothed the storm brewing in the back of his mind.

"Yeah?" Lifting an eyebrow, a soft smile teased the corners of her lips. "Do you think things are going to be okay between the two of you?"

Turning an empty palm out, he said, "I think we have made a good start."

"Good, I'm happy to hear that." Smile widening, she did sound and appear genuinely pleased for him, something that still marveled him. "So, you'll keep in touch?"

"Indeed. He intends to call me tomorrow. I—we … he's agreed to stay on the Citadel so that when I have finished helping you with the collectors, I might spend what time I have left with him." He lowered his gaze to the space between them, debating briefly on whether he should tell her of his visit to the doctors, but he swiftly realized there was no question. Of course, he would tell her, they'd both already shared so much with one another. "He was rather displeased with me when he learned I'm not on the transplant lists. He didn't understand how I could choose to allow myself to die instead of fighting to prolong the inevitable. I … I agreed to allow Dr. Chakwas and Mordin to examine me, to see if I may be placed on the lists. Kolyat required it of me if I am to have a relationship with him."

He expected her to say something, but silence lingered in the air. Lifting his gaze to her again, he found her staring off at nothing. The look in her eyes carried the familiar, haunted cast he'd seen from her in her darker moments. It pained him to see, but he knew what would bring her back from the edge of that chasm.

Tilting his head to the side, he reached out to her, setting his hand on her knee. "Jane?"

She blinked, turning her attention back to him and smiled, but the phantasm that tortured her didn't retreat entirely. "Sorry, it's been a long day. My mind wandered. You were saying something about an examination?"

He left his hand on her knee a moment, watching as the darkness slowly receded a little further, and offered her a sympathetic smile. "That's quite alright." He pulled his hand away again, letting it rest on the cushion between them. "Yes, I allowed Mordin and Dr. Chakwas to examine me, so my name might be placed on the transplant lists, for Kolyat's sake."

She pursed her lips. "But not for your own," she said, but it was not a question. She wrapped her arms around herself, a gesture he'd seen her do before while feeling disquieted, and it only made him want to open his arms to her. "You said before the Kepral's advanced too far for transplants to do you any good."

"I believed it had." He lifted his hand from the couch to gesture at nothing in particular before letting it drop again. "Mordin, however, seems to believe it is worth pushing things through for me, so perhaps I'm mistaken."

Hope flashed in her eyes, bright and burning, so startlingly beautiful before she blinked it away. "So, if you get these transplants … then what?"

He didn't want to answer the question, knowing the truth of the matter wouldn't be what she wished to hear. "Then … I'll likely live at most a few years longer, but eventually, the disease will take its toll, and I will go to the sea."

She blinked, but tears still welled in her eyes. She turned her gaze away, running a knuckle under her eyes, and sniffed. "A few more years with Kolyat is a really good thing. I hope it works out for you."

He brought his hand back to her knee. "I've upset you."

She turned her attention back to him, offering him a sad smile, the flow of tears already stopped. "No, no. I'm fine." Her gaze dropped to his hand on her knee, and she covered it with one of her own, giving his fingers a gentle squeeze.

He turned his hand beneath hers, letting her palm settle against his and brushed his thumb across the back of her hand, offering her the anchor he thought she needed … and perhaps he needed as well. "Siha?"

She smiled at his use of the term and met his gaze again, the darkness nothing but an echo in her eyes. "Yeah?"

"I … I'm sorry if the thought of my death causes you pain." He wanted to reach out and pull her into his arms, hold her and comfort her as he had the night she came to him in tears, but he contented himself to hold her hand a moment longer before pulling it back to his lap. "I'm not used to having anyone care about me, there being anyone who might mourn my passing. You said you've come to care for me." He swallowed, the words sounding false in their simplicity in his mind, but he said them nevertheless, "I have come to care for you, too. I don't wish to be the cause of your grief."

 _I only want to bring you joy._

She watched him for a moment, lips parted as if words sat there just on the tip of her tongue. Then, she licked her lips and smiled. "That's what happens when you let people into your life, Thane. I've lost a lot of people I cared about over the years, but it doesn't stop me from opening my heart up to new people. Yeah … it also means opening myself up to the possibility of more grief, but it's worth it to me."

He felt ashamed. He'd spent years doing the exact thing she said she refused to do herself, closing himself off from others.

 _Even now, I fight to keep her out._

"Whatever time I get to spend with those I care about, no matter how short … it's worth it to me. Especially now, after everything I've been through." She shrugged, rubbing her arms. "I shouldn't even be here; I shouldn't be able to spend any time with anyone, anymore."

He took in a deep breath, relieved it didn't bring an ache to his chest as it had after his examination. "I fear you are far braver than I have been."

"I'm Commander Shepard. No one's as brave as I am." She smirked, reaching across to lightly tap his shoulder with her knuckles. "But you're being brave now."

 _Not brave enough, perhaps._

He chuckled, the playful gesture pleasing him. "You are too kind."

She gave him an odd look and then scrunched up her nose the way he'd seen her do once before as they talked about the pets she kept in her cabin. "I'm really not." Her features relaxed, shifting back into that soft smile she seemed to reserve for him alone. "I'm serious, though. It was really brave of you to put yourself out there to stop Kolyat from making such a huge mistake today. Brave to try to fix things with him after so much time. And … all things considered, I think it was brave of you to come to me to ask for help."

"Ah. Thank you, siha." He let his gaze trail over her face, taking in the sparkle of her eyes, the soft curve of her cheeks, the angles of her frill-less jaw. "I am more grateful to you than I have the words to express."

Her smile widened into something mischievous, and her eyebrows twitched up. "You could try."

He laughed, rubbing his palm over his leg before turning on the couch to face her more completely. "Jane … you have not only given me a cause, a way to redeem myself before—a way to leave the galaxy a brighter place, but you have helped me to see the error of my ways and given me back my son. I told you before that I was prepared to die on Illium. I didn't feel like I had anything left to live for. But now … I feel as if I owe you everything. Anything you would ask of me, if it is within my power to provide for you, name it and it is yours."

"Hmmm. I kind of like the idea of having the galaxy's greatest assassin willing to do whatever I ask." She chuckled, her gaze drifting away from him, a light blush spreading across her cheeks. "But you don't owe me anything." She met his gaze again. "If it helps, consider us even. Afterall, I did rope you into what's being called a suicide mission. And, you were willing to listen to me about the reapers, hell you even passed the intel along to someone who might actually be able to do something to help the galaxy get ready. You definitely earned a detour to the Citadel."

Something wrapped a fist around his heart, tugging it down into the pit of his stomach. "I don't—I don't want us to be even. Please, siha, allow me this." He needed her to understand how truly important her actions were to him, how much … how much she had _saved_ him. Despite himself.

She watched him for a moment, lips parted, eyes wide before she licked her lips and gave him a slight nod. "Alright."

Seeing her tongue dart out again made him crave to know what it would feel like in his mouth. He glanced away from her, clearing his throat. "I should," he said and then cleared his throat again, "I should return to Life Support, I have much to think about."

"Sure, alright." She pushed herself up from the couch and stepped aside, clearing the way for him.

He rose to his feet, stepping out from between the couch and the table, stopping in front of her, hesitating as his gaze caught on her lips again. She smiled, something about the curve of her mouth calling to him, and he swallowed.

"I'm really glad you're talking to Kolyat again," she said, drawing his gaze back to hers.

She stepped forward, hands reaching for him, moving in that slow way of hers that she used with him in particular, allowing her body to announce her intentions to him, preventing any regrettable acts of reflex. Yet it still took him by surprise when she didn't just stop with her hands on his shoulders, but instead, she slid both arms over him in an embrace. His breath caught in his throat, feeling the warmth of her against him, face resting against his frills. He slid his arms around her ribs and waist, hands splaying out against her back and pulling her in closer. She stayed there, body pressed against his for several, long seconds, and he wished it'd never end. Then, she turned her head and kissed his cheek as she separated herself from his grasp. Stepping back only two steps, she met his gaze again and smiled.

Only Arashu knew what came over him, but he couldn't bear the thought of that distance growing. Lifting a hand to her face, he cupped her cheek and leaned in, lips barely grazing over hers before retreating once more. He blinked, afraid to meet her gaze, and dropped his hand. "I …."

She reached out, fingertips brushing over his jaw, flooding his frills with heat. Her eyes … her eyes were filled with so much desire—so much _life_ —when he met her gaze again, it took his breath away. His heart pounded in his chest, hands trembling, mind hazy. She leaned closer, pushing up on her toes, and before he could make sense of what was happening, her lips found his. Tender, warm, and inviting, they closed over his lower lip before slipping away again. Fingers tangling in her hair, he urged her back to him, all sense of reason abandoning him completely. All he knew, all he understood in the moment, was he wanted her. Her mouth opened to him, and he took the invitation, tongue sliding past her lips to twine with hers. A moan slipped from her throat, arms wrapping around him, pulling him closer, body pressing against his with so much warmth and … and … and it was too much. Head spinning, images of Irikah slamming against the brittle walls of his consciousness, he tore himself away, stumbling back.

Pain, the biting sting of rejection, flashed through her eyes as she backed away from him, unshed tears turning her eyes to glass. He brought a shaking hand to his mouth, lowering his gaze, the look in her eyes carving a deep fissure in his heart. Taking another step back, his heel hit the couch, and he threw his hand out to stabilize himself.

"I'm … I'm sorry. I don't know—I shouldn't have …. My apologies." He turned on weak legs, all but running for the stairs.


	10. Completely Undone

**Completely Undone**

There was no safe place on the _Normandy_ for him to retreat, not even Life Support. He might steal a shuttle and flee the ship—he'd done it before after killing a target—but he thought overcoming the AI's control over the _Normandy_ might just be more of a challenge than he was prepared to take on … and it carried with it the potential of endangering the crew. He'd made Shepard a promise, though, accepted a contract. He couldn't leave, he swore to help her defeat the collectors and save the colonists. He just needed some time to gather his thoughts, needed a place to hide, be truly alone for a time. There was nowhere, though. Nowhere for him to go where she couldn't find him if she came looking, and nowhere in the galaxy, let alone the _Normandy_ , would keep him from his memories.

"Thane, Dr. Chakwas wished to inform you that your medications are ready." The AI's voice came through the speakers, jarring him from his state of panic and confusing him with her words.

"What? Ah." He pressed his fingers to his forehead, rubbing at the tension spread out beneath his scales as her meaning sunk in, reminding him of yet another promise he made. "Yes, of course. Thank you, EDI."

"You are welcome." If EDI held an opinion about what happened a few moments before in Shepard's cabin or his obvious current agitation, she kept it to herself.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, he bowed his head in prayer, asking Arashu to forgive him for making such an egregious mistake, hurting one of her sihas, and to grant him peace. He left Life Support and made his way to the Med Bay, forcing a smile on his face when Dr. Chakwas met his gaze. He listened to her the best he could as she droned on about the medications, their side effects, dosages, and scheduled breathing treatments in the Med Bay while all the while silently begging her to stop talking and leave him be. At last, she tucked all of the bottles away into a bag and handed it over to him. Thanking her, he dipped his head and smiled again before excusing himself.

The Med Bay doors slid open, and he looked up, finding himself face to face with Shepard. He sucked in a sharp breath, her sudden appearance taking him by surprise. "Shepard … I …."

Shutters slammed down over her eyes, sealing her soul off from him, and she stepped aside, clearing the path for him. He lowered his gaze. Of course. Why wouldn't she hide herself from him after he'd treated her so callously? She'd given him so much of herself, shared parts of herself with him she gave to no one else, opened her heart to him, and then he turned her away but only after stealing from her what wasn't his to take.

"My apologies," he muttered, stepping out past her.

"Don't worry about it," she said, voice sounding cold and hollow as she moved past him and into the Med Bay, the door sliding closed behind her.

He stood there for a moment, staring at the sheet of metal separating the two of them before letting out a weary sigh. His heart ached. How could he have been so foolish? Why not be content to have a friend? A _friend_. The first in ten years, why couldn't he just be grateful for the gifts she gave him without ruining it, chasing after something more? Something he could never truly have again, something beyond his ability to give her. Even she kept her feelings to herself, simply enjoying the bond they shared without complicating things … until he kissed her.

 _Why must I destroy everything I touch?_

Lowering his gaze to the floor, he turned and made his way back to Life Support and settled the bag down on the table. Wiping his hand over his face, he took a deep breath and tilted his head back, exhaling towards the ceiling. He closed his eyes, but the memory of the feel of her hands on him, body pressed against his, and her tongue in his mouth flooded him, ripping the air right from his lungs. Sweet Arashu, why did he run from her? He wanted her back in his arms so badly, a terrible idea, and after the way he behaved, he'd be lucky if she ever even allowed him to speak her name again. He shouldn't feel so much for her, what happened to it being something kept at bay, something he hoped might fade as he adapted to life without his battle sleep?

 _Life. There was so much life in her eyes._

He'd told her that he'd do anything, give her anything, she need only ask. She'd returned his kiss, was that not asking? No, she'd never ask him to give himself to fulfill his debt; a debt she didn't even believe existed. He swallowed and pulled out the chair, sitting down to prop his elbows on the table and press his face into his palms. He'd run from her. Without explanation, he just ran, like a coward. Just as he'd abandoned Irikah and Kolyat. And he'd convinced himself he'd grown wiser over the years. He owed her an explanation, an apology. He might not be able to make right their friendship, but at the very least, ensure they were able to maintain a working relationship. He didn't think she'd be too pleased to see him again so soon, though. The way she looked at him outside of the Med Bay … perhaps it'd be best for him to try to speak with her in the morning.

The evening passed on, leaving him in solitude, something he once savored but after everything the day brought, it provided him with only an aching sense of loneliness, regret, and misery. Memories came and went, filling his mind with the pain in her eyes when he pulled away; teasing his heart with how wonderful she felt in his arms. His thoughts drifted to Kolyat and the promises he'd made his son. The soul-wrenching agony he'd caused Kolyat for so many years. Of course, his self-created torment wouldn't be complete without memories of Irikah, his greatest love and also his greatest failing, the one who paid the greatest cost for his ineptitude as a man. Yet every time, no matter what else he thought of, his mind and heart brought him back to Shepard.

As the ship wound down around him, the sounds of the crew moving through the deck slowing to a near standstill, he tried to sleep, but even then, she haunted him. The sounds of her laughter echoed in his ears only to be replaced a moment later with the icy, empty tone she'd used outside of the Med Bay. Don't worry about it, she'd said, and yet there he lay, unable to think of anyone or anything else for more than a few minutes at a time. It soon became clear sleep intended to evade him completely.

He sat up on the edge of his cot, almost exactly where he sat the night she came to him in tears, the night he held her while she sobbed against his shoulder and neck. "EDI, is Shepard still awake?"

"She is," EDI said a second later. "Would you like for me to tell her something?"

He rubbed his hand over his face and took a deep, steadying breath. "Ask her … ask her if I might speak with her for a moment, perhaps in the mess hall?"

EDI remained silent for a few seconds before finally conveying Shepard's response, "She said you are welcome to join her in her cabin."

"Her cabin?" He didn't expect her to want him to return to her private quarters, and he wasn't entirely certain it'd be wise.

"Yes, she said she doesn't want to leave her cabin right now, but you may go there if you wish to speak with her," said EDI.

"I see." He pushed himself to his feet and grabbed his linen shirt from the back of his chair, sliding it on over his head. "I will be there in just a moment, then." He glanced down at his bare feet and decided against bothering with putting his shoes on. What would be the point when he wasn't properly dressed anyway? Considering they spent so much time together on sleepless nights, both wearing their sleeping clothes at times, he doubted it'd bother her in the slightest, regardless of the circumstances bringing him to her door.

He left Life Support and called the elevator, waiting with his hands tucked behind his back and his gaze lowered to the floor. When the elevator opened, he stepped inside and pushed the button for her cabin. Despite everything, he found some part of him became excited at the prospect of seeing her. The elevator stopped, and he stepped off, the door to her cabin sliding opened for him. He paused in the entrance, noting the lights of the cabin were turned down low, clearing his throat, he called out to her, "Jane?"

"Down here." Her voice floated up to him, coming from down the stairs. She sounded calm enough, but somehow off.

Stepping over the threshold, he made his way into her cabin, hesitating to gather himself. He glanced at the fish before moving on, making his way to the stairs. He found her sitting on the couch, the same seat she'd sat at the other times he came up there. Holding a clear glass in her hand, partially filled with an amber liquid—alcohol of some sort, judging by the scent in the air and the bottle sitting opened in front of her on the table—she glanced at him, eyes bloodshot, the delicate skin surrounding them appearing rubbed raw and a little swollen. The look in her eyes crushed him; she looked so lost, alone, and perhaps most painful for him to see, resigned to her condition. The photograph of Kaidan lay askew on the table, part of it hanging over the edge as if it'd been tossed aside.

"Hey," she said, turning her attention to her glass. "Need something?" Bringing the alcohol to her mouth, she drained the glass and then reached for the bottle.

Lips parted, he watched her for a moment, gauging her movements, trying to determine how intoxicated she might already be. He wanted to talk to her, but if she was inebriated, it might not be the best time.

She filled her glass halfway before setting the bottle down again. Leaning back, she threw her feet up on the table and rested her head on the back of the couch, gaze turned up to the ceiling. She pulled in a long, slow breath and let it seep back out of her. "Are you just going to stand there and stare at me?"

"No," he said, and she rolled her head along the cushion to look at him. "I owe you an apology, but perhaps you'd rather I wait until the morning, so you may enjoy your drink in peace."

She snorted, looking at the glass in her hand. "It's not doing much for me. Nothing does anymore. A considerate addition Cerberus gave me; I can metabolize toxic substances that would kill most people, krogan included. A batarian bartender on Omega tried to kill me with a poisoned drink—something he apparently did with every human who ordered from him—but it didn't work on me. Just knocked me out for a little while."

The thought of someone trying to kill her, simply for being human, infuriated him, but he put it aside for the time being. Still, he thought it useful information to have, reassuring, knowing she wouldn't be so easily killed. Even though she let the silence stretch a moment, he had the feeling she intended to say more, so he waited, hands behind his back.

She took another drink, seemingly determined to get as much of the alcohol into her system as possible. "It also means I have to drink a shitload to get drunk, and there isn't enough alcohol on this ship to keep me intoxicated for more than an hour or two. Definitely not enough to make me sleep, no matter how hard I try." She scoffed, taking a heavy swallow from the glass. "Even your venom passed through me in minutes." Sucking in a deep breath, she turned her gaze back to him. "You already said sorry. A few times." She brought her glass back to her lips, eyes almost vacant as she watched him over the top as she took a sip.

His chest ached, but he kept his hands resolutely behind his back. "An explanation, then."

"We're both lonely people, Thane," she said, her voice barely more than a whisper, and she looked away, gaze seeming to seek out the photograph of Kaidan. Her jaw clenched, and she took a heavy swallow from her glass. Her voice sounded stronger when she continued, "Lonely people do things they regret sometimes. You don't need to apologize or explain anything to me. We're adults, we don't need to make it into a big ordeal." She glanced at him, and her declaration might've brought him far more relief if not for the unshakable feeling the words were a lie; it already felt like a big ordeal to her.

"Siha—" He stopped when he caught her slight wince, and she looked away, gaze shifting to the window above her bed. "Jane," he said, trying again, but she didn't look at him. "I am not blind to the pain I have caused you, but I pray you believe it's the last thing I ever wanted to do."

She scoffed, the sound more cynical than derisive. "You kissed me and then ran off. I'm not really sure why, but it was _just_ a kiss. It's not like you spit in my face or stabbed me in the back." She took a drink, still not looking at him. "I'm fine." More lies, yet they spilled from her tongue so easily, slapping him across his face. Deflection, minimization, they seemed to be common coping mechanisms for her, yet just then, they seemed designed to wound him and wound him they did.

" _Just_ a kiss? I don't make a _habit_ of kissing people, Jane," he said, the offense heavy in his tone, moving down off the stairs and closer to her before he thought better of it.

Her gaze snapped to him, and she arched an eyebrow, a dangerous look flitting through her eyes. "And you think _I_ do?" The sudden, clear, focused look to her eyes let him know she truly wasn't inebriated at all, despite her best efforts.

He cleared his throat and rubbed his fingers over his forehead, pacing away once more. "I—forgive me." He turned back to her. "I don't mean to imply …. I only mean to say it is not such a simple matter for me, and I feel as if my reaction seemed … abrupt and hurtful to you." Taking a deep breath to steady his fluctuating emotions, he waved a hand as he spoke, "I made—I had a lapse in judgment, and I regret whatever discomfort my swift retreat may have caused." Mistake. He'd almost told her he'd made a mistake, which most certainly would've been a very poor choice of words.

She let out a soft chuckle, though it carried a bitter edge. "Swift retreat? Is that what we're calling it?" She shook her head. "It's not the first time I've seen that look on someone's face, Thane. Granted it doesn't usually happen right after they kiss me, but I've seen it enough to know when someone's running scared."

There was no point in denying it, she was right. He'd been scared, and he'd run from her. He would've kept running until he reached the other side of the galaxy if not for the _Normandy_ having already left the Citadel. He would've pulled his battle sleep back around him and refused to ever let it go again—except maybe for Kolyat. And why? He'd told himself it wouldn't be fair to her, he might harm her by loving her, and indeed it accounted for part of his problem, but it didn't define the issue in its entirety. He wasn't simply afraid of his what his own death might do to her, but he felt terrified by what hers might do to him.

Taking a drink, she looked away again, but not before he saw the hurt in her eyes. She dropped her feet to the floor and leaned forward, carefully setting her glass on the table before bracing her palms on her knees and pushing up to her feet. "What are you so afraid of?" Her words sounded like a challenge, but when she turned to face him fully and met his gaze, what he saw in her eyes made it seem more as if she braced herself for a killing blow. "You want to explain something to me, explain that." She threw her arms out to the sides before letting them fall, palms slapping against her thighs. "Why kiss me if it I'm not something you want?"

The choice of words spoke volumes about how deeply wounded she felt, how personally, she'd interpreted his earlier behavior. He hated the look in her eyes, the expectation of more pain, hated seeing it directed at him. Suddenly he felt exhausted, not from lack of sleep, but from the flurry of emotions the day brought, overwhelming him after so many years spent numbed to it all. He felt so tired of fighting what he felt for her, even though he'd done an awfully poor job. The longer he took to answer her, the more the light in her eyes dimmed, the familiar, desperate, near-panicked look creeping in around the edges.

Brow furrowing, she licked her lips and said, "I was comfortable with our friendship. I won't lie and say I wasn't interested in something more, but I was content. Happy even, having someone I felt I could really share anything with. I thought you were, too. So why?"

Filling his lungs with as much air as possible, he held it for a few seconds and then let it back out slowly, trying to steady the pounding of his racing heart. "I look at you, and I think you are beautiful," he said, his voice cracking, and she blinked, confusion filling her eyes. "When I see the pain in your eyes, fear, I want nothing more than to make it go away."

He watched as her defenses crumbled, confusion giving way to doubt in her eyes, and it pulled at him, moving his feet a couple of steps closer. He didn't know what thoughts went on in her head, but he suspected they weren't about him alone. He almost saw the effects of her existential crisis, as she called it, winding themselves around her soul like serpents, threatening to rob her of her life. She swallowed, shifting her arms to wrap them around herself, holding herself tight.

"The sound of your laughter brings me joy like no other. Each day I find myself wondering, hoping it will be a day you decide to come spend time with me. When I am near you, I find I have to fight the urge to touch you—to kiss you." And yet he found himself moving nearer still.

"You're not making any sense," she said, a tremble in her voice, and she shook her head.

He stopped, easily close enough to reach out and touch her, and he knew he would if she gave him even the slightest inclination it was what she wanted. "I am afraid if I allow myself to embrace … these feelings I have for you, it will only lead to your suffering. Whether through my failings or my death. If something were to—I'm afraid it might lead to my own suffering. And acknowledging the truth of this feels like a betrayal to Irikah, even though she's been gone for years. Perhaps I am most afraid it is beyond my control." He turned his empty palms up, silently begging her to understand just how helpless he felt. "I kissed you _because_ I want you, but it scares me. Even now, I _want_ you, and it terrifies me."

She chewed on the corner of her lip, searching his gaze. "So, now what?" she asked and then licked her lips. "Are you going to face your fears and be brave or run from me again?"

He gave her a soft smile and surrendered the battle, reaching out to graze his fingertips over her arm from elbow to shoulder as he moved closer. "I want to be brave, siha." His heart thundered in his chest, even harder than a moment before, when her breath hitched, the life he saw in her eyes earlier blazing once more.

"Then show me." Despite the desire filling her eyes, she remained very still, as if she didn't feel certain of his intentions to stay.

Closing what little space remained between them, he cradled the back of her head, using his thumb on her jaw to tilt her face up to him and kissed her. She didn't kiss him back, not right away, but then her lips started to move against his, slow and tentative. Wrapping his other hand around her hip, he tugged at her, determined to see things through, no matter what doubts he must overcome. She moved her arms, a barrier between them, and came closer. Her warmth soaked through his linen clothing as if it weren't even there, filling him with the most marvelous heat. Brushing the tip of his tongue over her bottom lip, he slid it inside to meet hers when she opened her mouth to him, faint traces of alcohol still on her tongue.

Her kiss became more fervent, tongue moving against his with a growing hunger. Despite the fears pushing against the walls of his mind, he refused to listen, instead, letting himself get swept up by the feel of her in his arms. Her hesitancy evaporated completely, hands running over him, leaving hot trails along his chest and frills. He needed more of her, all of her. Wrapping his arm around her waist, he pulled her body flush against him, and when he did, the sound he made brought a throaty hum from her. She slid her hands under his shirt, fingers skirting over his scales as she pushed the cloth up. Letting his lips leave hers, he separated himself from her enough to let her lift the shirt up and off of him.

He watched her, soaking in her beauty as her gaze wandered over him, fingers tracing the patterns of the stripes along his scales. Lifting her face to him, she met his gaze, eyes positively glowing as she pulled him into another kiss only to break it again a moment later. Her hands left him, and she tugged her own shirt off, tossing it to the floor next to his. His breath caught in his throat, gaze sweeping over the expanse of exposed flesh. Things were moving so fast, but he didn't dare slow them down. He wanted her, and he was through resisting. He traced one of the pale, fading scars, forming a path from her shoulder down over the arc of her breast, hardened nipple standing out at the apex, and her chest heaved, raising into his touch.

He knew little about human physiology aside from what it took to kill one, but he had no problem taking his time to explore and learn, trusting her body to tell him what she liked. And just then, her body told him her breasts were indeed a sensitive area. Closing his hand around one, he kneaded the flesh, brushing his thumb across her nipple. He glanced up when she sucked in a breath, finding her lips parted, eyelids fluttering closed. Leaning in, he brushed his lips over her neck and shoulder, starting just below her jaw, the skin so soft and delicate there, so unlike a drell, yet so entirely perfect. She tilted her head, giving him room as he tasted her with tongue and teeth, an approving sound vibrating deep in her throat.

Hands sweeping over him, she traced the curves of his muscles, fingers stopping in their journey to squeeze at him each time his thumb brushed over her nipple or his teeth scraped across her neck. Zeroing in on the most sensitive spot, he trapped her nipple between his fingers, applying a little pressure, and she trembled in his arms in response, gasping and arching her back. She brought her hand to his neck, fingertips exploring the ridges of his frills, pulling a moan from him. It'd been so long, so long since he'd let anyone get close enough to him to touch him in such an intimate manner, a fact his body seemed more than keen to remind him of as fire washed through his veins, engorging him and making skin and muscle ripple beneath his scales at her every touch. Her hips shifted, pressing provocatively against his pelvis and growing erection, making his breath stutter and his heart skip a beat.

Tugging him back to her, she pulled his bottom lip between her teeth before licking it. "Come to bed with me," she said, nipping at his lip again.

Angling herself towards her bed, she started to walk backward, forcing him to choose to either let go of her or follow, and he refused to let go. Now that he had her, he intended to do his best to never let go again. He glanced past her shoulder as she slid her hands down his neck and chest to rest on his hips as she moved, and he used his grip on her to steer them to the side of the bed. She tugged at the waistband of his pants as they walked, fingers slipping past the fabric to squeeze and knead at his hips and backside even as she leaned in to claim his mouth once more.

He stopped when they reached the edge of the bed, letting her shove his pants down over his hips, freeing him to the chill air between them. She leaned back, gaze moving slowly over his body before she reached out, taking his erection in her hand, wrapping her fingers around him, stroking him. He groaned, hand spasming against her hip, head tilting back to the ceiling as his eyes lost focus. Her hand abandoned him, replaced with the heat of her body as she pressed against him, bringing her mouth to his throat, tongue flicking over his frills. Urgency fueling his motions, he tugged at her pants, but they refused to go far, leaving him frustrated enough for a soft growl to tear through his throat. Pulling back, she met his gaze and smirked, eyes bright with her need, and she took his hands in hers, guiding them to the front of her pants, turning down the hem to show him a tied drawstring tucked inside.

Changing places with her, he sat on the edge of the bed, pulling her in front of him and made quick work of the knot, sliding her pants down over her hips and thighs, her heady scent reaching his nostrils as he leaned in to trace a scar along her stomach with his tongue. He eased her legs apart, positioning one on either side of him before pulling first one knee and then the other onto the mattress next to him, sitting her on his lap, bringing her incredible, teasing heat close enough to him to feel her moisture. Her arms wrapped around his neck, and he lowered his head to her chest, pulling one of her nipples into his mouth. Moaning, she arched her back, fingers slipping between the points of his crest, urging him on.

She rocked her hips forward, rubbing against him, slick and soft as silk, and it nearly undid him completely. He wrapped his arms around her back, holding her close as he turned and rolled, bringing her down to the bed, bracing himself above her. He looked down at her, taking in the blush spread out over her chest, neck, and face, the scars crisscrossing and spiraling over her skin and the intensity in her gaze. It occurred to him, though he knew she'd taken lovers in the past, he was quite likely the first since her return from Kalahira's shores. How lonely she must've felt, awaking from death, scared and alone, longing for the comfort of her lover's touch, only to have him turn her away when at last she found him again. He didn't know Kaidan, but he thought the man an utter buffoon, and he'd very nearly made the same disastrous mistake. Perhaps he should instead sing the man's praise, for if he hadn't denied her, then Thane wouldn't be there with her, moments away from losing himself completely inside of her.

Kissing her, he slid his hand between her legs, fingers trailing through thick, coarse hair before finding the warm, wet velvet calling out to him, exploring the delicate folds. She shuddered beneath him, sucking in a gasping breath through her nose, tongue ceasing its movements as she curled herself, rolling her hips back to lift against his hand. His fingers slipped down lower as she moved, revealing a dip, what he thought must be her opening. Prodding gently, he eased a finger inside of her, and she started kissing him again, her lips and tongue moving against his demanding as if she were half-starved—and perhaps she was—and he'd just promised to provide her with her fill.

Ankles locking behind his knees, hands reaching down to tug at his hips and waist, she clung to him, pulling him closer, her desperation washing over him. Removing his finger from her, he took himself in hand, shifting closer as he brought the tip of his erection to her opening, and she lifted her hips again, meeting him, welcoming him inside of her. Tight, wet, and hot … so hot, she surrounded him as he eased himself in, feeling her slowly stretch to accommodate, rolling her hips more to pull him further inside. The ache in his chest alerted him to the fact he'd altogether stopped breathing. Tearing his lips away, he sucked in a breath, closing his eyes and resting his forehead against hers as he took a moment to adjust to the flood of overwhelming sensation.

Her fingers brushed against his cheek, her voice soft and filled with a strange mix of dread and compassion as she said, "Don't be afraid. Don't run from me, Thane."

Bringing his mouth to hers once more, he kissed her, a soft brush of his lips as he pulled back and then eased himself inside of her again. He delighted in the soft whimper it brought from her, savored the feel of her muscles constricting and then relaxing around him. "I'm not going anywhere, siha, not unless you send me away."

Her grip on him tightened, and she moved beneath him, enticing him to quicken his pace. She felt amazing, everything about her, perfect and completely _right_. He moved within her, soaking in every second, every sensation, burying his face against her neck to taste her skin on his lips. Her hands glided over him, soft caresses and desperate kneading, nails scraping at his scales. She nipped at him, teeth and tongue trailing over his frills, teasing him with their warmth and the suggestion of pain, never quite crossing the line, always remaining delightfully pleasurable in its intensity.

She moaned and writhed, his name tumbling from her lips, soft whispers in his ear. She loved him. She never said it, she didn't need to, he heard it in her voice, felt it in her body's response to him. He loved her, too. He prayed she felt it in the way he touched her, the way his mouth sought hers, the way he clung to her as if she might slip through his fingers. The gods save him, he loved her, too. The hurt he'd seen in her eyes when he'd fled from her taunted him, reminding him of how close he'd come to never having known what it was like to feel her bare chest pressed against his, to feel her wrap herself around him, arching into him. It only added to his fervor, finding he desperately wanted to do anything, _everything_ he could to erase that moment of rejection from both of their minds, completely.

Nothing else mattered but the woman beneath him. Time passed them by, the galaxy spinning, countless people going on with their lives, but just then, none of it mattered. Her breaths came more staggered, her moans of pleasure louder, lasting a little longer. He nipped at her shoulder, trailed his tongue over her throat before closing his teeth ever so gently on the lobe of her ear, palming her breasts, pinching her nipples between his fingers. She tightened around him, incoherent, pleadings and prayers to her god rushing from her lips, urging him on, and he knew she was close. His own release called to him from the horizon, but he pushed it aside, not yet ready to let his time with her end.

The way she pulled at him, it seemed as if she wanted to devour him, merge with him, unite the two of them somehow. If only it such a thing were possible. He thrust into her deeper, harder, faster, giving her as much of him as able. She cried out, body rigid, head thrown back against the pillows. One of the strongest, most powerful, most stunning people in all of the galaxy, with an absolutely beautiful soul, came completely undone in _his_ arms.


	11. Hope

**Hope**

Thane listened to her breathing, the steady rise and fall of her chest pushing against his side. She slept with her head in the crook of his arm, face pressed against his chest. Her hand rested on his sternum, and she'd thrown one of her legs over his as if even in her sleep, she feared he'd leave her again. The scents of their lovemaking lingered in the air, mingling with the floral smell of her hair splayed out over his arm and shoulder, filling his nostrils with each breath.

With the heat of the moment past, passion dwindled down to burning coals, the doubts and fears began creeping back in. He wouldn't—couldn't—back away from his feelings, from her, not again, but he worried it was something they'd both come to regret when the alpha shift started and they needed to leave the quiet solitude of her cabin once more. What did she plan she tell the rest of the crew? What would he say to Kolyat? Might their relationship jeopardize the mission? What would become of them once they completed the mission, assuming they survived? He'd told Kolyat he wanted to spend what time left to him with his son, but doing so necessitated leaving Shepard. The thought pained him, made his chest ache and his throat tighten.

He sucked in a shuddering breath, and she stirred in his arms. Rolling off of him and onto her other side, she tugged the covers along with her, leaving him bare. He smiled, fighting back a chuckle, and eased himself from the bed. Moving on silent feet, he made his way up the stairs and into the bathroom. After relieving himself, he turned on the shower, keeping the heat low to avoid the steam and stepped under the shower spray, turning his face up to the water and closing his eyes.

After a moment, he glanced over the bottles lining the shelf in her shower, at a loss as to what most of them were used for. Finally, his gaze snagged on one which read 'body wash', and he picked it up. Opening the bottle, it pleased him to find the soap gave off only a light scent, nothing too fragrant or floral. He used it to clean himself before spending another minute just standing under the water, letting it run down over his neck and shoulders as he watched it spiral down the drain. He shut off the shower and grabbed a towel hanging over the rack, wrapping it around himself before stepping out onto the mat.

As he dried off, he heard her call out to him, the fear in her voice turning his blood to ice. He reached out, opening the door. "I'm here, siha."

A moment later she appeared at the top of the stairs, the light from the aquarium and bathroom catching in her eyes, letting him see the panic there. Her gaze found him, and the fear started to subside. "Hey." She smiled, and then yawned. "You're still here."

"I am." He resumed drying himself off, returning her smile. "I hope you don't mind, I used your shower."

Her gaze roamed over him, slow and appraising, another soft smile tugging at her lips. "Not at all. Having trouble sleeping?"

He turned, taking his time hanging the towel on the rack, still feeling her gaze on him. "I suppose I am."

"Thinking about running again?" She moved into the doorway, leaning against the frame, meeting his gaze in the reflection of the mirror.

Turning back around, he closed the distance between them and rested his hands on her bare hips, tugging her to him. He kissed her, soft and chaste before saying. "I still have my concerns, but I have no intention of running, Jane."

She held his gaze for a moment before nodding and wrapping her arms around his neck. "Good." Pressing her lips back against his, she lingered there a moment, his lower lip trapped between hers. When she pulled away again, she smiled and ran her hands over his shoulder and down his chest. "You done in here? I need to use the restroom."

"By all means." He reached up, brushing his thumb over her cheek and kissing her again before leaving the bathroom. Giving his eyes a moment to adjust, he made his way down the stairs and gathered his clothing from the floor. He was pulling on his pants when he heard the bathroom door slide open again.

"Leave the shirt off?" she asked.

He glanced at her, finding her standing at the top of the stairs. "As you wish."

He folded the shirt over his arm instead, watching her as she moved down the stairs, the soft light of the aquarium against her bare skin giving her an ethereal glow. It stirred something inside of him, watching the gentle sway of her hips and breasts as she moved, making him want her again. She stopped, squatting down to gather up her own clothes before standing back up. Moving closer to her, he dropped his shirt on the foot of the bed and reached out, running his fingers over her waist. She glanced at him over her shoulder, and he tugged her clothes free from her hand, tossing them aside next to his shirt.

A slow smile lifted the corner of her mouth, and he pushed her hair aside, skimming his lips over the back of her neck. She leaned against him, giving him an approving hum as she rolled her head to the side, exposing more of her neck to him. He wrapped his arms around her waist, hands flattening against her stomach, pulling her flush against him. Running his tongue over her skin, he stopped to kiss just below her ear, nuzzling against her before shifting lower to nip at her delicate skin. She sucked in a breath, holding it for a second before letting it out in a soft moan.

Arching her back, she pressed her backside against him, the gesture feeling as much like an offer as a request. He cupped her breast, trapping her nipple between his fingers and nipped at her neck again. Breath stuttering, she lifted a hand to wrap around the back of his head, fingers weaving between the ridges of his crest. He rolled his hips a little, feeling himself starting to grow against her backside.

She turned in his arms, sliding her hands around his neck and pulled him to her, tongue reaching out to meet his before their mouths even made contact. Her fingers slid over his frills, her kiss every bit as hungry as before, the strength of her desire stealing his breath. Kneading at her hips and backside, he pulled her flush against him once more, his own urgency rising up to meet hers. He turned, guiding her back to the bed, wishing he didn't bother to put his pants back on.

She sat on the edge of the bed, pulling him closer to stand between her thighs, tongue trailing over his abdomen as she tugged at his pants, pushing them down. Her hand wrapped around him, and she took him into her mouth, a completely unexpected but entirely pleasant surprise. He moaned, the wet heat and suction making his throat constrict and his mouth dry out. He cradled the back of her head in his palm and looked down at her, watching as her lips slid up and down his length.

After a few more passes, tongue swirling around him, she released him. Voice low, hungry and seductive, she said, "Lay down." She pushed herself back on the bed, clearing the space for him and held out her hand.

He wrapped his fingers around hers, letting her guide him down to the mattress before reaching for her. Moving to her hands and knees next to him, she kissed him before lifting one of her legs over him to settle back onto the bed next to his hip. He cupped her breast, the other hand sliding down along her side to grip her backside before reaching behind her to take himself in hand. Using the tip of his erection to spread her open, he slid along her slick folds until he found her opening, and she pressed down, easing herself around him. Once she sat flush with him, he gripped her waist with both hands, lifting his hips as he pulled down on her, burying himself even deeper. She let out a soft whimper, muscles tightening around him as she started to rock back and forth.

She whispered his name against his lips, sliding her arms beneath his to wrap her fingers back around his shoulders, resting her weight against him. He held her close, one hand splayed out over her back, the other resting on her head, stroking her hair as she tucked her face in against his neck, nuzzling and kissing his frills. She rolled her hips, rocking herself up and down on top of him; movements slow, drawn out as if savoring the feel of him. All the same passion and desire which made her frenetic and demanding earlier was still there; he felt it in her tense muscles, the strength of her grip on him, but her movements remained deliberate, controlled, fueled by something else.

He closed his eyes, and he thought he felt her soul reaching out, searching for his. So, he fought against his instincts, dropping his barriers and opened himself to her. He gasped, feeling her soul wrap around his, washing away years of pain like the warm waterfalls on Kahje. He surrendered. Surrendered to her and to the love he felt for her, again and again, every time some stubborn part of him insisted on trying to erect a wall between his heart and hers. The emotions sweeping through him were so strong, tears sprang up in his eyes, and they weren't so easily blinked away.

She let out a soft, contented sounding sigh, pushing herself up enough to kiss him, tender lips forming perfectly around his. He opened his mouth, tongue exploring hers in slow, gentle sweeps as he lifted his hips to meet her movements, soaking in the feel of her around him and on top of him. She pulled her hands free, shifting her weight to one side to bring her hand to his face, wetting her fingers in his tears as he traced the lines of his scale plates and the ridges of his cheek. She moved down over his frills, palm pressing against them as she cupped his face and neck. Mouth leaving his, her thumb took its place, brushing across his lower lip. She nuzzled back in against his neck, licking and nipping at his throat, pulling a moan from him, and she started to tighten around his length, hips moving a little faster, grinding against him a little harder.

Breathing shifting into soft pants, she moved her hands to the bed beside him, pushing herself up, sinking down on his length completely. He brought his hands to her breasts, lifting and kneading, tugging at her nipples. Lips parted, a moan vibrated deep in her chest. She bucked her hips, her body clenching at him before releasing again, over and over, pulling him closer to orgasm. She started to lose her rhythm, movements becoming more erratic, and he knew she danced on the precipice. Dropping forward again, her lips crushed down on his, tongue pushing into his mouth. He moved his hands back to her hips, grip tight as he lifted her, helping to steady her movements, pushing back up into her, guiding her over the edge.

Her breath caught in her throat, thighs locking tight around him, her insides spasming wildly. He took over for her, moving her on top of him, lifting himself into her until the waves stopped crashing through her, and she collapsed, breath ragged, on top of him. Holding her close, he rolled, sliding her beneath him and kissed her. He brought a hand to her face and felt tears against his scales. He didn't question them, he understood all too well. Brushing her tears away, he kissed her again, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, moving against him as he rocked into her, made love to her.

"Jane." Her name left his lips, unbidden as his flesh took over, driving him to move faster, deeper inside of her.

She clung to him, curling herself around him, her hips lifting up in an offering, allowing him to sink himself as deep inside of her as possible. Starved for air, he tore his lips away from hers. He pressed his forehead to her shoulder, sucking in ragged breaths. Her name slid from him again as he plunged into her one last time, the spring so tightly coiled inside of him snapping, muscles working to pump out every last drop.

Her hand stroked his head, fingers brushing between the ridges of his crest with gentle sweeps. She turned a little, pressing her lips to the side of his head and let out a happy sounding hum. He smiled, kissing her shoulder before lifting up enough to look at her, the light in the cabin just barely enough for him to see her features. She was truly beautiful. Stroking her thumb over the ridges of his cheek, she lifted her head from the pillows, bringing her mouth to his.

When she broke the kiss again, he pulled out of her, shifting to lie on the bed next to her, fingers brushing over her stomach. She rolled to her side, pressing her back against his chest, and he slid his arm all the way around her, pulling her even closer. He listened as her breathing started to level out, his own taking him a little bit longer. Her fingers brushed over his arm, and he kissed her shoulder, the moment feeling so perfect and peaceful, he knew he'd revisit the memory many times. Closing his eyes, he felt sleep tugging at him, and he settled his face in against the back of her head.

 _I love you, siha._

Morning came far too soon, forcing her out of his arms. Her hand brushed over his face, lips pressing against his briefly before disappearing again, and he opened his eyes, taking in the sparkle in her gaze. "Stay here," she said, voice soft, "get some more sleep."

Reaching out, he pushed hair behind her ear and ran his knuckles along her jaw, and she smiled, her whole face lighting up at his touch. "Are you sure? I can go with you if you wish."

She shook her head a little. "It's a thing for Samara, we're on Omega. I want to give Mordin and Garrus the chance to check in with people here if they need to, but if I go traipsing through Omega with too many people, Aria might feel threatened. I don't have time to stroke her ego."

He chuckled, leaning in for a kiss, letting his lips linger against hers for a moment. "As you wish."

She left him, the sound of the shower starting in the bathroom lulling him back to sleep. He stirred a few times, as quiet as she was, no longer used to hearing the sounds of someone moving around the room while he slept. Still, he slipped back into unconsciousness easy enough. He wasn't sure how long he'd slept when he awoke again, but he felt well rested. Perhaps better rested than he had in years. He rolled over, stretching his arms out over his head, a smile on his face.

"Good morning, Thane," EDI's voice filled the cabin. "You've missed breakfast being served in the mess hall. Would you like for me to ask Yeoman Chambers to bring something up for you? Shepard suggested you be allowed to make yourself at home in her cabin."

"Ah. Good morning, EDI." He let out a soft laugh, throwing back the covers and sitting up. "Thank you, but no, that won't be necessary."

Making his way to the bathroom, he relieved himself and then turned on the shower, needing to wash away the residue of their lovemaking before spending time with the rest of the crew. He stepped inside and closed his eyes, enjoying the feel of the slightly warm water sliding over his scales. He still struggled; still worried about how wise it was for the two of them to become involved in such a close fashion, but at the same time, he hadn't felt so hopeful and content, happy even, in years. He washed, hearing the sounds of her soft sighs in his ears once more. Waking up next to her, even if only long enough for her to slip away, felt like being at home again. Perhaps he should feel ashamed for experiencing such feelings about Shepard after never having stayed with Irikah in the home she built for him, but his night with Shepard left him feeling anything but ashamed.

Leaving the shower, he dried himself and went looking for his clothes again. Shepard left them folded on the coffee table for him. Odd for something so simple to bring a smile to his face, but it did. He dressed and then went to the bed, intent on making it for her before leaving her cabin, but as he glanced over the sheets, he realized they really needed to be changed after their night together.

"EDI?" he asked, glancing towards the AI's access node next to the door.

The blue hologram sprang to life. "Yes, Thane?"

"Do you know if Shepard keeps clean bedding in her cabin?" he asked.

"Yes, in the cabinet near the floor to your left."

"Thank you." He moved to the cabinet and retrieved fresh sheets, setting them on the nightstand before stripping the bed. Once the clean sheets were in place, the bed remade, he gathered up the dirty ones and took them to her laundry chute. "Did Shepard feed her fish this morning?"

"Yes, I reminded her." EDI sounded almost proud, and it made Thane chuckle.

He stopped to look around her cabin once more, taking in the model ships and her orderly desk before leaving. When he stepped off the elevator onto the third deck, he felt relieved no one lingered in the halls to see him. He felt like an unruly teen, sneaking into Life Support in the late hours of the morning wearing nothing but his sleeping clothes. He slipped inside and grinned as the door slid closed behind him, wondering if the giddy thrill he felt was normal for others in such a situation. He quickly dressed in something more presentable, taking a couple of minutes to collect himself before going in search of food, his stomach rumbling as if he needed the reminder he'd slept well past meal time.

The mess hall stood empty, no one around at all. He glanced toward the Med Bay and saw Dr. Chakwas through the window, sitting at her desk. As if feeling his gaze on her, she glanced up at him and smiled. Returning her smile, he dipped his head to her before making his way to the refrigeration unit. He settled on a couple of pieces of fresh fruit, likely procured while they were on the Citadel. He didn't want to eat too much, not with lunch in a couple of hours.

He sliced the fruit into a bowl and then sat down at one of the tables, but he wasn't alone for long. The door to Miranda's office slid open, and she stepped out, gaze fixed on a datapad in her hand. Thane watched her as she moved to the kitchen area and put a kettle of water on the range. She turned, her gaze finding him, and she blinked, surprise flitting over her face for a moment.

"Thane, I'm sorry, I didn't see you there." She glanced at the kettle and then back at him, lifting an eyebrow. "Would you care for a cup of tea?"

 _Ah …._

"Yes, please." He dipped his head, despite his unease, the idea of sharing tea with the Cerberus operative making his scales itch. Perhaps more so since it felt like a foundation of sorts for his relationship with Shepard. "My thanks."

She smiled, turning to the cabinet. A few minutes later, she brought two, steaming cups over, datapad tucked under her arm. She sat across from him, setting one of the cups down within his reach. She sipped her tea, watching him over the top of her cup before saying, "I'm told you spend a lot of time with Shepard. How is she?"

Thane blinked, pausing with the cup halfway to his mouth. He set it back on the table. "Perhaps this is something you should ask her."

Miranda let out a soft huff. "I've tried." She waved one of her hands before bringing it back to her cup. "She won't talk to me about what's going on with her, and I'm concerned. I'm responsible for her. I need to be certain she is stable for this mission. There are a lot of lives at stake."

"I—I'm not sure I feel comfortable discussing Shepard without her present." He propped his elbows on the table, clasping his hands in front of him. "I don't believe she'd approve of your asking me to, either."

She studied him for a moment, eyes narrowed, lips pinched. Finally, she sighed and took a drink of her tea. "I should've expected as much. She's Shepard, the woman blinks and has the loyalty of everyone around her, even me," she said, sighing and waving her hand again, "I suppose. The Illusive Man wouldn't have put so much into bringing her back, otherwise." She took another sip of her tea. "Just tell me … has she said or done anything you know of that I should be concerned about?"

"I'm sorry, Ms. Lawson," he said, spreading his hands before clasping them once more, "I don't feel as if this is appropriate. If you have concerns you wish to address with Shepard, I can let her know you wish to speak with her."

Miranda huffed. "What do you think we have EDI and Kelly for?" Datapad in one hand, the cup of tea in the other, she stood. "Enjoy your fruit. I'll leave you to it." She turned, dismissing him completely as she made her way back to her quarters.

He returned his attention to his meal, letting the silence settle back in around him, feeling decidedly less relaxed than he did a few moments before. Certainly, Shepard had her struggles, but she'd shown herself to be competent enough on the battlefield, hadn't she? What reason did Miranda have to think Shepard wouldn't be fit for the mission? Surely the operative just felt the need to be cautious, keep an eye on Cerberus' investment.

He finished his meal, carrying his plate and cup back over to the kitchen area to wash his dishes before returning to Life Support. He spent an hour in meditation, centering himself, before moving to the table and placing a call to Kolyat. It took so long to connect, he began to think his son refused to answer. Just as he decided to give up, the screen flashed and Kolyat appeared.

Thane smiled, the sight of his son filling his heart with joy. "Hello, Kolyat."

"Hello, Father." Kolyat dipped his head, features remaining neutral. "I'm glad you called. I suspect you will hear soon enough, so I would rather tell you myself. C-Sec found Joram Talid dead in his apartment not too long ago. I had nothing to do with his passing; I did not send him to the sea."

"Ah." Thane took a steadying breath. "That is unfortunate, but I am not surprised. The man who wanted Talid dead seemed quite … incorrigible. Shepard won't be pleased to hear as much, I suspect."

"Shepard, of course." Kolyat frowned, eyes taking on an icy cast. "I know there's something there, Father. I can see it written all over your face. You love her, don't you?"

"I—we …." He couldn't bring himself to lie to Kolyat. Before, it seemed easy to brush aside Kolyat's assertions; nothing yet passed between him and Shepard, but after spending the night with her, to deny what they shared would be a blatant lie … and it'd feel as if he dishonored her. He cleared his throat and took a deep breath. "We are still learning one another, but … yes, there is something more between us." Thane shifted forward, resting his arm on the table. "Does this anger you?"

Kolyat remained quiet for a minute then let out a weary sigh, shaking his head. "No, Father. It doesn't anger me … just disappoints me."

It wasn't what Thane expected. He lifted a brow ridge and asked, "Disappoints you?"

Kolyat let out a harsh breath, shaking his head. "Forget it, it's not important."

"It is to me." Thane waved his free hand, the heavy weight settling in on his shoulders forcing him to lean a little closer to his omni-tool.

Kolyat sighed and rubbed a hand over his face, his voice sounding weak, defeated when he said, "Let's not talk about this now, please."

"As you wish." Thane lowered his gaze, feeling a little frustrated at how difficult he found carrying on a conversation with his own son. "I spoke with the _Normandy's_ doctors yesterday after you left. Dr. Mordin Solus is having my name placed on the transplant lists."

"He is?" Kolyat sounded genuinely surprised, and when Thane met his gaze again, he saw hope in his son's eyes.

"Indeed," Thane said, dipping his head. He prayed it was a sign Kolyat might be forgiving him, truly making the attempt to mend bridges and move on with his father a part of his life.

Kolyat smiled. "I'm pleased to hear this."


	12. Side Effects

**Side Effects**

Thane sat in meditation in Life Support. The breathing treatments the _Normandy's_ doctors prescribed left him feeling light-headed and jittery. In turn, the mild disorientation created unease and paranoia, making him uncertain of his surroundings and increasingly distrustful of the ship's crew. Particularly those bearing a Cerberus insignia. Dr. Chakwas assured him the feeling wouldn't last long.

He prayed she was right.

In the meantime, meditation proved useful in calming the turbulence of his mind and the racing of his heart. The idea of making the breathing treatments a part of his daily routine—perhaps indefinitely—was a daunting one. He would do it, nevertheless, he gave Kolyat his word.

Admittedly, it was overwhelming to think he might actually be approved for organ transplants. Pain and suffering aside—he would endure, he always endured—he simply didn't know how to approach the concept of his life extending beyond a few more months. He'd prepared for death, made his final plans. What would he do with himself? After receiving transplants, would he be able to continue to work? Even if his health permitted, continuing on with such a dangerous life would be irresponsible, wouldn't it? Putting his life at risk after receiving such a gift—a gift that might've saved the life of another—seemed ungrateful and disrespectful, dishonoring the life of the one who provided for him. Unless, perhaps, if he found a way to use his skills to save innocent lives the way he did while working with Shepard.

Ah, but that would be unfair to Kolyat.

Kolyat. His son. Sweet Arashu, he had a future to look forward to with his son, even if only a brief one. He had much to learn about his son and being a father to a grown man; perhaps he might succeed with an adult where he'd failed with a child. It was foolish to consider any of it just yet. He didn't know when an approval might come in for a transplant, and by the time his name reached the top of the list … he'd likely already have gone to the sea.

The door to Life Support slid open, and he turned to look, a smile spreading across his lips when Shepard stepped inside. Pushing himself to his feet, he smoothed down his jacket and held a hand out to her. "Hello, siha."

"Hi," she said, eyes lighting up as she stepped further into the room, letting the door slide closed behind her. Crossing the floor, she slipped her hand into his, smiling as she leaned in and turned her face up to him.

He kissed her, savoring the soft feel of her lips against his and pulled her in closer. Humming, she smiled and brought a hand to his frills, tongue cool to the touch as she traced his lower lip in invitation. He opened to her, finding hints of something sweet lingering on her tongue as he brushed over it, taking her into his mouth. The woman evoked so many conflicting emotions, fear and love, doubt and hope washed over him. Consumed him.

She pulled back, meeting his gaze, hand still caressing his frills. "I was a little afraid you wouldn't still be here when I got back," she said, voice soft as she gave him a sheepish smile.

"I'm not going anywhere, Jane." He brought his hand up to her face, cupping her cheek.

Hand drifting down to settle on his chest, she asked, "So, no regrets?"

"Only that I hurt you and gave you reason to fear I would turn away from you again." Leaning in, he rested his forehead against hers. "I intend to do my best to make it up to you."

She smiled, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Well, in that case … I was thinking it'd be really nice for us to do something together … off the ship."

"Indeed." Lifting his head, he held her gaze. "Do you have something in mind?"

She shrugged. "I know Omega isn't exactly ideal, but we're here, and I think there has to be at least one semi-decent restaurant in the Tuhi District."

Chuckling, he brushed his thumb over her cheek. "Omega is a dangerous place."

She grinned, eyes sparkling with mischief. "We're dangerous people."

"That we are." He smiled and dipped his head. "However, if you don't mind, I'd like to wait a little longer. I'm still recovering from the side effects of the breathing treatment Dr. Chakwas administered."

"What side effects?" Brow creasing, she took a step back and glanced over him. "Are you okay?"

"I am." He tightened his grip on her, a silent request not to pull away from him completely. "One of the medications is a steroid, and it left me a little light-headed as well as increased my heart rate. I feel weakened, and I have a slight tremble, but Dr. Chakwas assured me it will pass soon."

"Oh. Well, we don't have to go out." She leaned back into him, giving him a quick kiss. "I'm happy just to be with you. We can have dinner in here or in the cabin if you'd rather."

"Not at all. I would very much like to take you wherever you wish to go." Using the hand still resting on her hip, he urged her to turn with him as he leaned against the edge of the table, pulling her in closer. "I just need a few minutes more."

"Take as long as you need." She tucked her head in under his jaw, pressing her face against his neck and clasping her hands behind his back. "I'm in no rush."

It warmed his heart, such an affectionate gesture, and one that somehow felt completely right. He felt loved and needed, something he hadn't experienced in a very long time. Rubbing his hand along her back, he hummed, tilting his head to rest his cheek against the top of her head, amazed at just how close they'd grown and over such little time. "I trust your mission went well?"

"Mmm." She shrugged. "Disturbing, but what mission we go on isn't these days? Samara got what she needed, though. She's fully committed to taking down the collectors now."

"This is good news." He stroked the back of her head, running her hair through his fingers. "It's unfortunate the mission disturbed you, however. Do you wish to talk about it?"

She hesitated only a moment before shaking her head a little and saying, "I don't really feel like it's my place. It was a personal thing for Samara."

"I see." Letting her hair slip through his fingers once more, he settled his hand on the back of her neck. "I won't ask you to break her confidence, but should you decide you do need to talk about it—or anything at all—you needn't worry about my saying anything to her or anyone else."

She pulled back to meet his gaze and smiled. "I know. Thank you."

Sliding his hand to her face, he brushed his thumb along her cheekbone. "I know Omega better than I care to admit; is there something, in particular, you'd like to eat?"

"Hmm." Her grip on him loosened and she shifted to lean against the table next to him, leaving one arm around his waist. "I don't know. Any recommendations?"

He considered it for a few seconds, running his hand along her shoulder. "There is a place called _Afterthought_. They serve a variety of levo dishes from asari and salarian cultures. I've enjoyed meals there before."

"Sounds perfect." She let out a soft hum and leaned into him. "How are you feeling?"

"Much better," he said, relieved to realize it was completely true. "I do believe we can go now."

Tilting her head back, she looked at him, eyebrows raised. "You sure? Really, if you're not feeling up to it, I don't mind staying in."

"Indeed." He pushed himself from the table, letting his hand trail down her back. "Shall we?"

Smiling, she straightened herself, looping her arm through his. "Yeah."

They left Life Support, and immediately, he became aware of various crewmen following them with their gazes. Whispers, soft and just beyond his range of hearing, pulled at him, making him apprehensive. As if feeling the weight of their judgment, too, Shepard tightened her grip on his arm, but she kept her head held high, meeting the gazes of each person to look their way as if daring them to say anything about her choice of companion. They turned their heads, cowed, burned by the fire in her eyes.

When they reached the elevator, she pushed the call button with her thumb, idly brushing the fingers of her other hand back and forth over the sleeve of his jacket. He wondered if the gesture was meant to be a soothing one, and if so, whether she intended to soothe him or herself. A moment later, the elevator doors opened, and they stepped inside. As the doors closed around them once more, she turned to him, pushing up on her toes to surprise him with a kiss. He smiled, cupping her jaw and trapping her lower lip between his for a moment. The elevator stopped, doors opening up on the CIC, and they broke away from one another, stepping out arm in arm.

Ms. Chambers glanced up, her gaze flicking between the two of them as a broad smile spread across her lips. She turned her attention back to her console, the smile still clear in her profile. "You have new messages at your console, Commander."

"Thanks, Kelly." Shepard nodded at the yeoman's back as she continued to walk by, leading Thane by the arm. "I'll check them later. We're headed out for a while."

"I'll notify Miranda she has the ship," Ms. Chambers said.

Heads turned away as Shepard and Thane met the gazes of those working around the CIC, soft whispers chasing them as they made their way to the airlock, just as they had on the third deck. Mr. Moreau turned his chair around to face them as they passed the cockpit, a sly smirk lifting the corner of his mouth, making the skin around his eyes crinkle. Reaching up, he grabbed his hat, tilting it a little as he met Shepard's gaze.

She grinned at him and winked, lifting her free hand in a small wave. "Joker thinks if you and I are sleeping together, you're less likely to kill everyone on the ship," she leaned in to whisper, her voice light and airy, humor dancing in her emerald eyes.

Thane let out a soft chuckle, bringing them to a stop in front of the airlock. "I'm not sure he understands the nature of the assassin profession."

The airlock slid open, and she stepped outside, a wide smile on her face. "Oh, he doesn't _really_ think you're going to kill anyone on the ship, he's just a smartass."

The sounds and stench of Omega, the cesspool that it was, welcomed them as they made their way down the hall to the entrance of the asteroid's station. They fell into a comfortable silence, and he needn't look at her to know her gaze roamed the masses crowded around the entrance to Afterlife, taking in the faces and movements of each person, vigilant for a threat—just as he was. He led them to the taxi stand at the far end of the platform, and after summoning a cab, he turned to face her, allowing him to keep an eye on the people behind her.

She smiled, her hand slipping away from his arm only for him to scoop it up in his before she could drop it to her side. Lifting her hand to his mouth, he kissed her knuckles before brushing his thumb over her fingers. The skycar arrived, settling down on the platform, and he opened the passenger's door for her before moving around to the other side.

He entered the coordinates for _Afterthought_ and waited for the skycar to lift into the air before shifting in his seat enough to look at her, taking in her beauty. In the dim light, her hair became indiscernible from black to his eyes, her pale skin taking on an almost ethereal quality. He smiled when he sensed a rise in her body temperature, the blush to her cheeks barely visible.

Reaching across the seat, he took her hand again, running his thumb back and forth across her knuckles. "I spoke with Kolyat again today. I hope you don't mind, but he asked if I have feelings for you, and I couldn't be dishonest with him … not after everything else I've put him through."

"Of course not," she said, squeezing his hand. "I don't expect you to lie to him—or anyone else—about us. How'd he take it?"

 _"No, Father. It doesn't anger me … just disappoints me."_

He took a deep breath, turning his other hand palm up as he said, "I'm not entirely certain, he declined to discuss his feelings on the matter aside from saying he was … disappointed."

"Ouch." She grimaced and glanced out the window. "Disappointed?"

"Indeed." Rubbing his thumb over her knuckles, he wondered whether her desire to be a part of his life extended to wanting to be involved in his son's life as well. He found it difficult to imagine Kolyat being willing to include Shepard when he so barely accepted Thane's presence. Truth be told, he wasn't entirely certain how he felt about the idea of those two worlds blending together.

The huff of air she let out caught a few strands of her hair, making them flutter around her face before settling against her cheek. "Well, I knew I wasn't going to be leaving a very good impression on him … but disappointment?"

A soft chuckle slid past his lips, and he hummed. "I suspect it has far more to do with my becoming involved with someone else after my failure as a husband to his mother than it does with you personally."

Laughter followed her scoff. "That doesn't sound as reassuring as I think you intended." Still, she tightened her grip on his hand and offered him a smile. "It's alright, though. I understand. So, how are _you_ with everything?"

"I am … still coming to terms, but I am hopeful." Hope. There it was again, such an unusual and cruel feeling. Yet, he found he wanted to embrace it when he was with her. "There have been many changes for me lately, between you and Kolyat, seeking medical treatments and organ transplants … it's a lot to take in."

"It _is_ a lot to take in," she said, scrunching up her nose. "I'm a little terrified."

Surprised, he let out a laugh. "As am I."

They arrived at the taxi stand nearest to _Afterthought_ , and the skycar settled to the ground.

"Shall we?" he asked, and she nodded, so he opened his door and stepped out of the vehicle. He moved around to the other side, intent on opening her door as well, but she was already stepping out of the cab. Smiling, he reminded himself just who exactly it was he'd allowed himself to fall in love with and held his arm out to her.

She slipped her fingers around the crook of his elbow and smiled at him, letting him lead the way to the restaurant. It wasn't a large establishment, but it was the closest thing to tasteful to be found on Omega. A soft, biotic-blue glow lit the sign above the entrance, welcoming them inside. Just within the door, an asari stood, her black and white suit complementing skin the shade of the sea. He smiled, dipping his head to her.

"Welcome to _Afterthought_ , feel free to sit wherever you like. A server will be around shortly to take your orders," she said, gesturing further in toward the dining area.

"My thanks." He dipped his head again before leading Shepard to the table with the best view of the exits, one which would give them a modicum of privacy. "Does this suit you?"

She glanced around before meeting his gaze again. "Perfect."

He smiled, pulling the chair out for her before claiming his own seat. Taking a moment to glance over the menu in case it changed since his last visit—which it had not—he quickly decided on a dish asari called _seramatan_ , comprised of boiled grains, fish, and leafy, green vegetables from Thessia. He turned his attention back to Shepard, watching her as her gaze scanned the menu, lips lightly pursed as she considered her options. Memories of the way her lips felt against his, against his frills and scales, started to push their way forward, so he gently cleared his throat and set them aside.

Glancing up at him, she smiled. "Do you already know what you want?"

"Indeed," he said, letting the corner of his mouth lift into a seductive smirk.

Her grin widened and she sat her menu aside, propping her elbows on the table to lace her fingers, resting her chin on top of her hands. "Mmm, and what's that?"

He leaned forward, clasping his hands on the table and lowered his voice, hoping she might still hear him over the din of the crowd. "The taste of you on my tongue and the sounds you make as you come undone echoing in my ears."

A blush spread across her cheeks, trailing along her neck, and she blinked a few times. "Oh, that does sound good. I think I might want the same thing."

Heat flooded his frills, and he let out a soft chuckle. Opening his hands to extend a palm to her, he brushed his thumb across her smooth skin when she placed her hand in his. "Shall we consider it dessert?"

"I like the way you think," she said and then turned to glance over her shoulder when his gaze shifted to track the approaching asari.

"Welcome to _Afterthought_. My name is Venia, I'll be your server." The asari didn't bother to even look at them as she spoke, her gaze fixed on the datapad in her hand. "Can I start you off with something to drink?"

Pulling her hand from his, Shepard sat up straight, attention fully on the server. "I'll have a glass of iced _rahada_ , unsweetened, please."

Venia glanced at Shepard and then narrowed her eyes, head tilting to the side After a moment, she gasped, eyes widening. "Goddess … you're … you're … but you can't be, you're supposed to be _dead_."

Thane fought back a wince, watching the color drain from Shepard's face. He cleared his throat, the act demanding the asari's attention. "I will have the same, thank you."

Giving her head a slight shake as if clearing the thoughts from her mind, Venia smiled again. "Of course, I'll get those for you right away. Are you ready to order or do you need a moment longer?"

He glanced at Shepard, heart aching to reach out and pull her to him, to chase away the hollow, haunted look to her eyes. She licked her lips and nodded, trembling fingers touching the menu again, though she didn't pull it any closer to read. She gave the server no other response, however, her gaze fixed on the table in front of her without seeming to actually see the metal surface.

"I can come back if you're not ready," Venia said, her face a tight mask of regret and sympathy.

"No," Shepard said, squaring her shoulders as she looked up at the asari, but still, her eyes looked lost to the memories of her death. "I'll have the flaked _halpendia_."

"And I will have the _seramatan_ ," Thane said, still studying Shepard.

"Excellent choices," Venia said, her voice carrying a timid edge at odds with the pulse of Omega. "I'll be right back with your drinks."

He waited for the asari to retreat before holding his hand back out to Shepard. "Are you alright, siha?" he asked, keeping his voice low.

The smile appearing on her face seemed forced, but she settled her hand into his and squeezed. "Yeah, I'm good."

"We can leave if you'd rather not be here." He didn't want her to put herself in a position where she'd be constantly reminded of her time on Kalahira's distant shores just for the sake of spending time with him. Especially not when he would happily spend time with her anywhere she wished. "We can find another restaurant, or return to the ship if you'd prefer."

"No, no." She squeezed his hand again, another bleak smile crossing her face. "She just took me by surprise. I still want to stay and eat."

He dipped his head. "Very well, as you wish."

It wasn't long before Venia returned with their drinks, her gaze downcast as she sat the condensation-coated glasses down before them. Keeping her gaze averted, she retreated from the table once more. By the time their meals were delivered, the darkness receded from Shepard's eyes. It seemed he wasn't the only one to pick up on the change as Venia dared to meet Shepard's gaze again and offered her a smile, which Shepard returned with ease.

Thane wasn't exceptionally skilled at making small talk and even less skilled in the art of dating, but Shepard didn't seem to mind in the slightest. She smiled and laughed with him, attention seemingly so focused on him—despite his knowing she never truly stopped paying attention to the masses any more than he did—it left him feeling as if they were the only two in the restaurant. Certainly, the only two who mattered.

"Tell me about Kahje?" She scooped _halpendia_ onto her fork, meeting his gaze again before putting the bite into her mouth.

The question brought a smile to his face, and he quirked a brow ridge. "What would you like to know?"

She shrugged. "Anything."

He thought about it for a moment, considering what she likely already knew—what was general knowledge and what she might've learned through her research into the drell. "There are many islands scattered throughout the seas of Kahje, though only a handful are large enough to sustain drell cities. Of those, only three contain the natural resources necessary to support adequate flora and fauna to provide for our people, and so those three islands are primarily responsible for producing food and materials for our entire population."

Waving his hand, he took a moment to steal a drink from his _rahada_. "Naturally, we supplement heavily from the sea, but as much as the sea provides, drell have dietary needs which cannot be met through the life found in the salted waters. We also wish to avoid consuming the fish and other sea creatures which serve as the basis for the hanar diet."

"Surely, with the planet being primarily ocean, there's more than enough of whatever the hanar eat for drell to have some, too?" She'd stopped eating a moment to watch him as he spoke, her forearms resting against the edge of the table, fork and knife poised in her hands above her plate.

"Indeed." He tipped his head in concession. The oceans of Kahje teamed with life, and the species the hanar preyed on were some of the most populous. There truly was no necessity for the drell to avoid those same species. "I suppose you might say it's more of a desire to honor those who saved us by being as little of a burden on them as possible."

"I read that only about three hundred and seventy-five thousand drell were rescued from Rakhana." Her gaze flicked to him while she picked at her plate, preparing her next bite. "Why such a small number?"

"The hanar were the first encounter the drell had with an alien race. We had yet to develop the capabilities for space flight." He hesitated a moment, debating on exactly how he wanted to word his response. "I imagine many drell feared the hanar, were distrustful of their intentions." In fact, he knew their histories well, and when the hanar first arrived, they were not welcomed with open arms by the drell; not initially. That was another conversation, however, and not one well suited for dinner. "Many others simply didn't wish to leave their homes, despite the strife living on a dying, war-stricken planet created. It took ten years for the hanar to rescue as many as they did, and during that time, the conditions on Rakhana only worsened. Now, there are but a few thousand drell left alive at any time living on Rakhana. The planet simply cannot sustain a larger population, and those who do manage to survive there live in nomadic clusters."

"Where was the Council through all of this?" Lifting an eyebrow, anger, like a spark of fire looking for kindling, lit her eyes. "Why didn't they step in and help?"

He waved a hand at nothing in particular. "Surely as a Spectre, you are aware of the Council's policies on uplifting species after the disasters of the Krogan Rebellions?"

"Of course, but we're not talking about providing the drell with advanced tech, we're talking about making sure a species didn't die off. They could've helped with the evacuation, set up drell colonies on uninhabited planets …." She shook her head, the spark finding a patch of dry grass in his words and flaring into a hungry fire, ready to consume whatever else he might have to offer. "They did nothing? Doesn't that piss you off?"

"They allowed the hanar to remove as many willing drell as possible and take them to Kahje but nothing more." He agreed it wasn't much. He didn't wish to defend the Council's actions, but he also didn't want to ruin their pleasant dinner by encouraging her rage at the injustices done to his people. "It … wasn't ideal, but neither is it something we can change. Without the hanar, the drell would be all but extinct at best, completely extinct at worst. For this, we choose to be grateful."

Lips pressing into a tight, thin line, she shook her head again. "Sometimes I really, really hate the Council. They've made me question the decision to accept the title of Spectre from the very beginning, and they _still_ make me doubt they care about anything beyond saving face politically."

"Indeed, which makes me believe the galaxy is truly lucky to have you and others like you fighting for us." He smiled, tilting his head to the side. "I'm truly honored to be a part of your team, Jane."

Almost instantly, the fire in her eyes died down to something warm and comforting, no longer wild and fierce, and she smiled. "Thank you. I'm glad you feel that way, and I'm so happy you agreed to join us. Even if things didn't go the way they are now between us … you've been a truly valuable member of the team."

"You are too kind, siha." He smiled, relieved they appeared to find their way back to more comfortable territory, and used his knife to scrape the last of the boiled grains onto his fork.

Letting out a snort of laughter, she shook her head. "No, you're just too humble, Thane."

He chuckled, a wide grin on his face. "Perhaps, but I've learned the opposite can cause quite a bit of trouble."


	13. Consumed

**Consumed**

Thane lay on his back at her bidding, hands tucked under his head to support his crest. The shutter above the bed slid open, and he watched firm muscles flex and slide under creamy, smooth skin as she made her way back to him. "You are truly stunning," he said, the words barely more than a whisper on his lips, yet they brought a smile to hers.

Pressing one knee to the bed, she leaned over just enough to trail her fingers over his chest. Her gaze wandered over him in the dim light of her cabin, and the hungry look building in her eyes took his breath away. They'd already made love twice since returning to the _Normandy_ , but he thought, if it was her will, he might manage a third time. Reaching out, he slid his hand along the back of her leg, from the crease of her knee all the way up over her backside, stopping to brush his thumb back and forth along the lovely curves her found there.

She crawled a little further onto the bed and leaned over him, skimming her lips over his as she whispered, "You make me feel alive."

Lifting his head enough to fully capture her lips, he slipped his tongue inside her mouth and threaded his fingers through her hair, urging her down to him. She shifted her legs to surround his thighs, her warmth settling enticingly close to his most sensitive areas as she caressed the frills along his jaw and throat. She rolled her hips, gently and slowly, as if testing his willingness to give her what she sought. He grabbed her waist, pulling her further up his body to rest her slick heat against his growing erection, letting her feel his desire as he soaked in hers.

She made him feel alive, too. Made him _want_ to be alive.

A moan slipped from her throat, and he swallowed it down, burying the delicious sound somewhere deep inside of his soul for safe keeping. Her lips left his only to find their way to his throat, teeth and tongue sliding over his frills, adding to the growing heat of need. Opening his eyes, his gaze caught on the stars, the deep, vast, empty confines of the eternal, and he warned them that they would never take his siha again. She was his now, and he'd lay down his life as well as the lives of countless others if that's what it took to keep her safe. To keep her alive.

Bringing his hands to her jaws, he urged her to meet his gaze. "Jane, I …." He wanted to tell her how he felt, how much she'd come to mean to him in such short time, but the moment her piercing green eyes found his, he found he couldn't make the words leave his mouth.

She held his gaze for a moment, a soft smile sliding over her lips as her fingers danced over the ridges along his cheek. "Me, too," she said, the words simple yet potent enough to leave him reeling. Pushing up more onto her knees, she moved around until he pressed against her opening and then eased herself back down, taking him inside of her completely.

* * *

The thick, smoke-filled air of the burning refinery certainly wouldn't aid in his recovery. His chest ached, each breath a struggle, yet he measured every one of them as he stood passively by, watching Shepard point her pistol at Zaeed. They'd managed to save the innocent lives trapped inside Eldfell-Ashland after the mercenary's rash decisions set the place aflame, but once they made it out of the refinery, they'd found they'd just missed their quarry. It came as no surprise to Thane that Amonkira would refuse the human his revenge after such a callous disregard for the lives of others. He'd pass no judgment against Shepard if she chose to permanently end her alliance with Zaeed by firing her weapon into his skull, but he found it highly unlikely she'd take the final step and squeeze the trigger.

At last, she holstered her weapon and helped Zaeed to free his trapped leg from beneath a fallen beam. It seemed they'd come to some sort of agreement, Zaeed would put aside his hunt for the time being and aid Shepard in her mission without further incident. Thane supposed it seemed the much better option to Zaeed. After all, Shepard granted him the chance to actually survive the mission and resume chasing after Vido Santiago.

The look in her eyes when she met Thane's gaze again told him how displeased she was with how the mission ended. He saw the doubt there, the hint of fear, but he didn't understand what exactly put it there. Perhaps once they were back aboard the _Normandy_ , she'd talk to him about what troubled her. He doubted it was as simple as Vido escaping, not when she'd saved so many lives. He thought it might be that she had second thoughts about working with Zaeed—he certainly did.

Zaeed limped his way to the shuttle when it arrived, and Thane noticed Shepard offered him no assistance. He might've assumed it was an oversight and tried to help the man, but Shepard simply wasn't one for oversights. If she didn't offer Zaeed aid, it was because she didn't want him to have any. Thane certainly wouldn't challenge her decision.

* * *

"Allow me," he said, easing the bottle labeled 'shampoo' from her hand.

She'd momentarily refused him when he suggested he join her in the shower, stating the steam would do him more harm, but the exhaustion in her eyes took the weight from her argument and she relented. Even then, she'd insisted on a compromise, keeping the temperature of the water low to reduce the amount of steam and asked EDI to ventilate the bathroom. Admittedly, it probably did help, especially with as raw as his lungs already felt from breathing smoke. Dr. Chakwas would likely be displeased.

He squeezed a small amount into his hand before seeking out her gaze for confirmation it'd be enough, and she nodded.

Then, as if an afterthought, her lips parted and she said, "One wash may not be enough to get the smell of smoke out."

He hummed, setting the bottle down and gently urged her to turn around. "Then I'll wash it as many times as necessary." Smearing the pale blue, viscous liquid over her hair, he worked it into a lather, filling the shower with a soft, floral scent.

She let out a soft sigh, leaning her head back into his palms as he massaged her scalp. "That actually feels really nice."

Chuckling, he leaned in and kissed her shoulder. "I'm pleased to know I'm doing it correctly."

She laughed, the sound light and echoing off the walls. "It'd be pretty hard to do it _wrong_."

He focused on working the shampoo through her strands, scrubbing and saturating her hair until it seemed he'd reached everywhere. She turned, tipping her head back beneath the shower spray and ran her hands through her hair until the water sliding down her body ran clean. Picking up the bottle again, he squeezed more out into his palm.

"Do you think …." She sucked in a deep breath as he worked the cleanser into her scalp. "Do you think Zaeed can be trusted?"

It took him a few moments to consider his answer, and in the meantime, he continued to wash her hair. "I think most mercenaries don't strive for honor in their actions, but Zaeed appears to be a man of his word. I don't know him well enough to vouch for his intentions, but he seems too brash to rely on deceit. When the time comes for the final strike against the collectors, I wouldn't anticipate him being one to back down from a fight."

"No … I suppose he wouldn't." She turned her head a little. "I guess I still have time to feel him out, decide whether or not I really want him with us."

"Indeed." He didn't know whether his words offered her much clarity on the situation, but she seemed content to let the matter wait for another time, so he didn't pry.

* * *

She sat next to his bed in the Med Bay, feet propped up on a small stool Dr. Chakwas had tucked away in a corner of the room. A datapad, held loosely in her hands, seemed all but forgotten as she stared off into space. The mask covering his nose and mouth grated on his nerves, despite pumping medicated, oxygenated air into his lungs, it felt suffocating. It left him feeling vulnerable, raw, and exposed. His muscles twitched, and despite having the lights dimmed for his benefit, they seemed far too bright. Fire consumed his lungs, tying his diaphragm into a tight knot with each breath. Beneath it all, his stomach roiled.

Worse, he hated the fact Shepard was by his side. He loved her, but he didn't want her there. He didn't want her to see him in such a helpless condition. She refused to leave, though, brushing aside his suggestions of her heading to bed without him. He couldn't bring himself to tell her that he didn't appreciate her presence at the moment. He wondered what it all said about the future of their relationship.

And yet, her insistence she stay by his side humbled him.

As if feeling his gaze on her, she turned, a smile softening the hard lines of her face. She reached over, slipping her fingers into his hand and squeezed. "How are you holding up?"

"Well enough," he said, his voice nearly lost to his own ears over the sound of the machine. He wasn't entirely certain she'd heard him, but she squeezed his hand again, so he returned the gesture. For her, for Kolyat, he would do whatever the doctors asked of him to keep him alive.

But at the moment, living felt an awful lot like dying.

He should be ashamed of himself. How could he bemoan his suffering when the woman sitting next to him, holding his hand and giving him a radiant smile, had in fact _died_? The very expanse he'd sworn against the night before once claimed her as its own, and she still bore the scars—many of them not yet healed—to show the immense suffering she endured to take breath again. To find her way to his side … so she might hold his hand while he inwardly complained over taking his medications.

"Alright, Thane," Dr. Chakwas said, drawing his attention to her as she pushed away from her desk and crossed the room to stand at his other side. "Let's get this mask off of you, shall we?" She brought a hand up, lifting the respirator mask from his face and setting it aside. "I'm going to listen to your lungs for a moment and take another scan."

He nodded his understanding and resigned himself to further prodding, following her directions as she told him to inhale and exhale. All the while, Shepard held his hand, thumb stroking back and forth along the scales of his knuckles. When at last Dr. Chakwas informed him that he was free to leave the Med Bay, Shepard stood, tucking her datapad beneath her arm and helped him to his feet. It embarrassed him to need the assistance, but his chest still burned and the room spun around him. His gaze refused to hold steady and focus on anything.

"Do you want to come up to my cabin, or would you rather sleep in Life Support where the air is a little drier?" she asked, keeping her voice low as she led him from the Med Bay.

They'd made it to the hall, Life Support and the elevator both right there before he'd made a decision. "I would very much like to sleep next to you, if you'll have me, but I'm afraid sleep is all I may be able to do."

She snorted and smirked, pushing the button for the elevator. "I think I can keep my hands to myself for one night."

* * *

He awoke in the middle of the night, coughing fitfully, choking on phlegm tasting of soot and the acrid flavors of medicine. Sitting up, gasping for breath, he swung his feet over the edge of the bed. Shepard's voice caught in his ears, but he couldn't make out the words over the incessant ringing. The bed shifted behind him, and a cool palm pressed against his back. A moment later, she left the bed, slipping a cold glass of water into his hand upon her return.

He tried to drink, but he struggled for air too much to manage. The fear in her eyes palpable, she knelt before him. A minute later, the door to the cabin opened, the lights shifting a little brighter as Dr. Chakwas made her way down the stairs. Shepard stood, moving out of the doctor's way, but Thane tracked her movements, fear gripping his mind so strongly he couldn't bear to have her out of his sight.

Dr. Chakwas held a portable nebulizer to his face, covering his nose and mouth. Instinct told him to pull away, his training urging him to strike, but the small part of his brain which remained capable of reason grabbed the device, holding it to his face and breathing deeply of the foul tasting medication. Offering him a reassuring smile, Dr. Chakwas opened her omni-tool and began scanning his chest. After only a few seconds with the nebulizer, the panicked fog receded from his mind, breaths coming easier and clearer.

"Keep using that for a few more minutes." Dr. Chakwas closed her omni-tool and stood up, leaning against the wall as she watched him. "I know this is alarming, but your scans are showing improvement. It's likely you weren't able to completely clear your lungs of the smoke you inhaled in the refinery the same as someone with healthy lungs would. I believe the combination of smoke and steam created a sort of sludge in your lungs. The next couple of days may be rough, but your cough is productive, so I'm not too concerned."

Shepard sat down beside him, one arm slipping around his waist while her other hand settled on his knee. Turning his head, he looked at her. Worry and inexplicable guilt painted her emerald eyes, turning them a darker shade of green. Setting the glass of water on the table, he reached out and stroked her cheek with the back of his hand.

She smiled, pressing her palm to his wrist, leaning into his touch. "I'm sorry," she whispered, and he shifted his fingers, resting them against her lips to silence her apology.

He, and he alone, carried the blame for his condition.

* * *

She laid with her face pressed against the side of his chest, gaze turned up at the stars above her bed. He ran his fingers through her hair, taking measured breaths as he listened to her talk about the sheer idiocy of dealing with the Migrant Fleet's Admiralty Board. She'd been so infuriated when she learned Tali was being charged with treason, Garrus had insisted on going with her to make certain she didn't shoot any of the admirals. Thane suspected he'd wanted to go to support Tali, but for some reason, he just wasn't inclined to say so. Either way, Thane was more than happy to wait aboard the _Normandy_ and spend the time meditating in Life Support.

His entire body ached. It wasn't an intense pain but a troubling one nonetheless. He wondered how much worse things would get before they started getting better. When he'd joined the _Normandy_ , he'd assured Shepard his illness wouldn't get in the way of his performance … but he no longer felt certain. He dreaded letting her down, but he especially feared of making a mistake, stumbling at the wrong time while they were in the midst of battle with the collectors and it costing Shepard her life or the life of one of her friends.

"So long as I'm alive," she said—the words, coming on the end of such a troublesome thought, made him suck in a hissing breath despite his efforts to keep his breathing stable—and rubbed her hand over his abdomen before tucking her fingers in beneath his ribs, "Tali would never go without a home, but I'm so glad those fools saw reason. It would've been completely devastating to her to be labeled as a traitor and exiled, especially the same damn day she learned her father died."

Regaining his composure, he ran his hand along her arm and kissed the top of her head. "You have one of the kindest, most beautiful souls I have ever encountered." He smiled at her when she tilted her head back to look at him. "Tali is lucky to have you as a friend. We all are—me more so than the rest, perhaps."

She smirked, brushing her thumb along his ribs. "Why? Because you get to sleep with me?"

Chuckling, he pulled her in tighter against his side. "It certainly is a wonderful perk, but I only meant it's because of who I am and the life I've lived. As I've said, you are the first friend I made in ten years." Shifting enough to give her warning before he rolled over to his side, he wrapped her up in his arms and kissed her, tongue tracing over her sweet, lower lip before retreating again. "As far as being allowed to sleep with you … well, you're the first person I've _actually_ slept next to in ten years, also." He nipped her lip. "Though I think sleeping has nothing to do with what you were suggesting."

She let out a soft chuckle, wrapping her arm around his neck before capturing his lips again. Savoring the moment, he took his time, tongue gliding over hers as he slid his hand along her side, tucking it beneath the thin shirt she'd chosen to wear to bed. Fingers finding their way to her breast, he cupped and squeezed, her responding, hungry groan filling his mouth and fueling his growing desire for her.

Pulling away just enough to whisper against his mouth, she said, "We don't have to do this if you're not feeling well enough to, Thane. I was only teasing. I'm perfectly content just laying here in your arms."

"Oh, but I _want_ to," he said with a smile before nipping at her lower lip.

She let out a soft whimper of pleasure, the tip of her tongue tracing the flesh his teeth taunted a moment before. "Are you sure?"

Smirking, he didn't answer, at least not with words. He might not be up for as vigorous of a night as others they had, but he felt fairly certain something soft and slow wasn't out of the question. Pushing her shirt up, he brought his face to her breasts, rubbing his frills over the sensitive skin before closing his mouth over a nipple. He delighted in the sharp, gasp of breath she took and the way she arched her back, ever so slightly, the pleasure the act brought her compelling her to offer more of herself to him.

She didn't question him further after that, only slid the fingers of one hand through his crest while the others kneaded his shoulder and tricep. Shifting his weight, he perched above her, lapping at the nipple of her left breast as he used his other hand to tease the right into a stiff peak. Trailing kisses down her stomach, tongue darting out to taste her skin here and there, he dipped his fingers inside her waistband and tugged. She lifted her hips from the bed, allowing him to pull the black, lace undergarment free before he dropped it over the edge of the bed.

Her thighs parted so easily under his touch, eager, mewling sounds escaping her throat. The scent of her budding arousal intoxicated him, making him lose himself in his memories of her for just a second or two before the caress of her hand against his frills pulled him back into the moment. He smiled up at her before making his way back up her body, tongue and teeth leading the way back to her breasts. Moaning, she arched her back again, fingers worrying the frills just below his jaw on the left as his mouth moved against her. Her touch was fire, and he wanted to be consumed by her flames.

"I love you, Thane," she said, voice nothing more than a soft rasp, so quiet he almost didn't hear.

The words froze him, forming a knot in his throat and making his heart thump hard against his chest. Slowly, his lips left her skin, and he looked up at her, almost afraid to meet her gaze in case he'd misheard her words. What he found in her eyes overwhelmed him, leaving him without a doubt she'd said _exactly_ what he thought and truly and utterly.

A smile spread across his face, and he kissed her, soft and slow, letting his tongue savor hers completely before pulling away again. "I love you, Jane."

* * *

Thane didn't particularly care for the mission parameters Kasumi set. Not only did it entail Shepard going in unarmed and without her armor to start, but Kasumi insisted they go alone. He'd pointed out to Kasumi that infiltration was a specialty of his, but the woman only argued, telling him they were going through the front door and he definitely wouldn't blend in with the crowd. In the end, Shepard chose to handle the mission the way Kasumi requested, leaving him and every other squadmate aboard the _Normandy_.

Garrus had likewise complained but made no attempt to challenge Shepard's decision once made. The turian appeared to be just as restless as Thane felt inside. As they waited for Shepard's safe return, Garrus paced back and forth from the Main Battery to the mess and back again. After a few passes, he let out a heavy sigh, shoulders slumping and mandibles fluttering helplessly before he joined Thane at the table.

Taking a sip of his tea, Thane watched Garrus for a moment before saying, "You're concerned for her."

"Of course." Garrus looked at him, mandibles flared and brow plate lifted. "Aren't you?"

"Indeed." Thane took another sip before setting the cup down and folding his hands on the table. "Perhaps more so seeing how this is affecting you. You know her better than all others, know what she's capable of, so if you are so unsettled …."

Sucking in a deep breath, Garrus let it back out in a heavy sigh. "There was a time I thought she was damn near invincible …. The Great Commander Shepard. Hmmm. But then I—we lost her." A soft, brief keen filled the air around him before he cut it off, swallowing as he fluttered his mandibles and looked down at the table. "The galaxy's a much darker place without her."

"Undoubtedly. She has certainly brought light and warmth back to my life." Thane hummed, picking his cup back up. "Something I never anticipated ever having again."

"Do you love her?" Garrus asked, something wary about his tone.

Thane took a swallow from his cup before putting it back down and dipping his head. "I do."

Tapping a talon against the metal surface of the table, Garrus studied Thane for a moment, gaze unflinching. "She loves you, and you seem to be helping her, but I'm afraid of what's going to happen to her when you die."

"As am I." Thane lowered his gaze, staring into the murky surface of his tea. "I nearly allowed the fear to keep me from accepting her affection, but as she so adamantly made clear, the choice was hers to make. I … I've begun treatments to help combat the advancement of my disease, and Mordin has placed me on the transplant lists."

"What does that mean for you?" The trill in Garrus' subvocals spoke of curiosity and hope.

Thane took a deep breath and shook his head. "If I survive long enough to receive transplants, it will prolong my life, but most likely only for a few years."

"Hmmm. Maybe by then, they'll have found a cure or at least improved treatments." Garrus fluttered his mandibles, turning on the bench to sit sideways and rest his back against the wall.

"Perhaps." Thane offered the turian a smile. "For the first time in ten years, I have a reason to want to live."


	14. Hollow

**Hollow**

The collector ship was a devastating reminder to all of what exactly humanity stood to lose if their mission wasn't a success. Clearly, the collectors held no intentions of limiting themselves to the human colonies of the Terminus. They intended to hit Earth, the cradle of humanity. Perhaps equally disturbing, the evidence suggested the collectors were, in fact, reaper-altered protheans. Contemplating how the Illuminated Primacy might respond to such knowledge, should it become publicly available, made Thane's head spin.

And yet, the most troubling thing he walked away from the experience with was the knowledge that the collectors appeared to have specifically chosen Shepard as a primary target.

His siha.

He couldn't lose her. He wouldn't lose her. He _refused_ to lose another woman he loved.

The Illusive Man knew the turian distress signal wasn't genuine, yet he did nothing to reveal the fact to Shepard and allowed them to board the collector vessel blind. She was rightfully angry with the Cerberus leader, and Thane, well, he was furious. He couldn't allow himself to show it, however. Shepard needed him to remain strong and supportive, give her the room she required to work through the matter. So, he retired to Life Support as she made her way to the comm room to speak with the Illusive Man. Undoubtedly, she'd make her discontent more than clear enough for the both of them.

It wasn't long before she came looking for him, the door to Life Support sliding open at her approach. He pushed away from the observation window and turned to look at her, sucking in a deep breath at the sight of the confusion and frustration still filling her eyes. The door closed behind her as she crossed the threshold, her steps aimed straight for him, and he held his arms open. Burying her face against his chest and shoulder she tucked her arms between them, clinging to the lapels of his jacket. He held her close, wishing there was something more he could do to make the mission and inevitable war against the reapers run smoothly. For her sake as much as for the galaxy.

"At least he didn't lie about knowing it was a trap," she said after a moment, defeat heavy in her voice.

"No?" It surprised him, honesty certainly didn't seem to be a trait belonging to the Illusive Man. "What was the point of sending us in under false pretenses?"

"He said he couldn't be sure communications weren't being monitored. He wanted them to believe that we thought the ship was derelict," she said and sighed, "otherwise, we might have missed the opportunity their ambush presented."

"I see." It wasn't a good enough excuse, not for Thane.

Surely, had he wanted to, the Illusive Man could have gotten word to Shepard. If not for EDI's warnings, they would've been taken by surprise and someone—Arashu, _all of them_ —might've died. What good would the information gained do if Shepard didn't live to use it to stop the collectors?

"And now that we're _off_ the collector ship, he tells me we need a reaper IFF to get through the Omega 4 relay." She let out a frustrated growl. "Even if it was just a working theory, if he'd told me ahead of time … we had the _chance_ to get the IFF off the collector ship. Instead, now we have to board a supposedly dead _reaper_. One that, apparently, Cerberus has known about for some time. He had people stationed on the damn thing, and now he's lost contact with them."

"You believe they've become indoctrinated?" he asked, rubbing small circles against her back.

"I think it's pretty damn likely. Even if the thing is dead as he claims, it's still reaper tech. We _know_ the reapers themselves aren't the only thing to cause indoctrination. They have other methods, and we know that prolonged exposure to reaper artifacts pretty much guarantees indoctrination." Unexpectedly, she pushed away from him, raking her hands through her hair before throwing them into the air. "What the hell did he really expect?"

"I don't know, siha." He watched as she started to pace. "I wish I had answers for you, truly. Do you believe the reaper is actually derelict and this isn't just another lie?"

She stopped, pressing her palms into the table, head hanging between her shoulders. "He swears that it is, as much as a reaper can be, anyway. I'm not sure it really matters, though. We missed the opportunity to get the IFF on the collector ship, the chances of us getting aboard another are …."

"Quite slim, indeed." He studied her for a moment, unsure as to whether he should close the distance between them after her retreat. "Still, perhaps we can find another way." He didn't like the idea of her being so close to a source of indoctrination, not when she already feared having reaper technology inside of her and questioned her own mental faculties.

A harsh, cynical huff of laughter left her mouth, and she shook her head before looking at him once more. "I swear to God, when this is all over … one way or another, I'm putting a bullet through the Illusive Man's head."

Fighting the urge to gape at her, he glanced toward EDI's access node, praying the AI understood the nuances of making empty threats when one was upset. However … Shepard really wasn't one to make empty threats. She seemed to understand his train of thought, however.

Gaze flicking toward the access node, she sighed. "EDI … you really don't need to pass that statement along to the Illusive Man. I'm just blowing off steam."

"There is no need to worry, Shepard." EDI's hologram sprung to life. "Priority to confidentiality has been given to the conversations between you and Thane at Yeoman Chambers' insistence. I am programmed to follow Yeoman Chambers' recommendations to support the mental health and well being of the crew. I am only required to file a report if it is believed that you have become a danger to yourself or to the crew. The Illusive Man is _not_ a part of this crew."

Shepard let out a soft chuckle; the AI seemed to have truly arrested her moment of agitation. "Good to know. Thanks, EDI."

"You are welcome. Shall I set course for the reaper?" EDI asked.

"No, not yet." Pursing her lips, Shepard ran her hand through her hair again, the motion far more relaxed than a moment before. "We still have other things on the table we need to take care of, and Thane's right, if there is at all another way, we should take it. Let's see what else we can find in the meantime."

"As you wish, Shepard. Logging you out." The hologram folded in on itself before disappearing completely, giving them the illusion of privacy once more.

* * *

It came as no surprise that the rest of the team were no more thrilled about the prospects of boarding a reaper—living or dead—than he and Shepard. Even after she called a meeting in the comm room and explained the matter to everyone, it continued to be a topic of open discussion in the mess hall. A few of the Cerberus crew seemed upset by the ambush and ill at ease over being anywhere near a reaper, as well.

There was a certain static to the heaviness of the atmosphere aboard the _Normandy_. It seemed as if everyone knew they were nearing the end, and sooner rather than later, the moment of truth on whether or not they were indeed on a suicide mission would be revealed. Everyone appeared tense, on edge, and it made Thane antsy and more vigilant.

He decided it would be best if he called Kolyat before the day ended. It would be good to see his son's face, hear his voice, and perhaps it would help strengthen his resolve. After all, if the collectors truly were working for the reapers, and all accounts seemed to point to it being the case, then it was only a matter of time until they moved on from kidnapping humans and pursued other species. The mission was a great risk, but if it would help ensure that Kolyat never had to face such peril, he would do everything possible. He only wished such an act were possible to keep Shepard safe.

A gentle hand settled on his thigh, pulling him from his inner musings. He blinked, smiling as he turned his head to look at her. Radiant, utterly beautiful, she grinned at him and squeezed his leg before turning her attention back to the conversation going around the table. He hadn't been completely lost to the discussion, but he really had nothing more to add at the moment. He'd spoken his peace on the matter and chose to be satisfied that Shepard intended to try and find another way to acquire a reaper IFF.

"So, where are going now, then?" Jack asked between bites of food.

"Aite in The Phoenix Massing." Shepard took a sip of her tea before picking her fork back up. "It's a Cerberus thing, but it sounds like one that's pretty important."

"What's so important about it?" Tali asked.

"There's a base there that's gone silent," Miranda answered. "They were working with a VI to learn to control the geth."

Tali huffed, glowing eyes rolling behind her mask. "Of course they were." Turning her attention back to her meal, she muttered, "Bosh'tets."

Shepard chuckled and then gave Miranda a lighthearted shrug, though clearly, the operative wasn't pleased with the comment in the slightest.

* * *

"Kolyat. I hope I'm not disturbing you." Thane offered his son a smile and folded his hands on the table.

"Not at all." Kolyat picked up a remote and turned down a vid screen playing in the background. "Are your treatments going well?"

"They are, yes." Thane turned out a hand and tilted his head a little. "They are … uncomfortable, but it is to be expected. The doctors assure me they are doing what they are intended to do."

"You look troubled." Kolyat studied him, astute eyes soaking in his features.

Thane took a deep breath and let it out in a sigh. "Some of the things we have encountered on this mission … some of the things we might encounter yet, are indeed troubling. I—I fear for Shepard's safety and the rest of the crew. I fear what will happen to you and the rest of the galaxy if we are not successful."

"What do you mean?" Brow ridges ticking up, Kolyat added, "I thought the collectors were only attacking human colonies in the Terminus?"

"So far, they have," Thane said with a brief nod, "but there is nothing to suggest they will stop there. We were—we found evidence to suggest they plan to attack Earth. As well, it appears they are doing so at the behest of the reapers."

"You believe the reapers are real?" Kolyat leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, bringing him closer to the screen.

"I do. The evidence Shepard gathered since her battle against Saren and Sovereign was more than enough to convince me, and I've forwarded her reports to the Illuminated Primacy." Shifting to prop his elbows on the desk, Thane clasped his hands in front of him. "I pray they heed the warning swiftly enough to prepare for the inevitable war to come."

Kolyat rubbed a hand over his face. "How serious is the threat?"

"The last time the reapers left dark space, they completely wiped out the protheans and every other advanced, sentient species of that time. They …" Choosing his words carefully, Thane waved a hand before continuing. "… alter some of the people they attack, turning them into mindless husks of what they once were, controlled by the reapers and set loose to attack their own people. I have seen it done with some of the humans the collectors have taken, fought them myself, and Shepard encountered them during her hunt for Saren." He wanted to tell Kolyat that they had reason to believe some of the protheans were turned into collectors, but Shepard didn't want the information getting out, understandably so.

"That … is horrifying," Kolyat said, eyes wide.

Thane dipped his head. "Indeed."

* * *

She looked hollowed out as if what she saw on Aite reached into her depths and stole something precious from her, the last spark of hope for the galaxy. She didn't even seem to have the energy to be angry. Ghosts haunted her eyes again, and he could tell she doubted her existence once more. She'd described what she saw in the VI core, told him about the man strung up 'like a marionette' with tubes shoved down his throat, thick cords piercing his extremities, and his eyes held open by metal claws.

David Archer was vulnerable due to a neurological disorder called autism, and he depended on his brother to protect him. Instead, Dr. Archer took advantage of David for his own personal gain. It was a disgusting, dishonorable, and cruel act. The Illusive Man claimed to have not known what was happening on the Cerberus base, but neither Shepard nor Thane believed the assertion. He knew, beyond any doubt, that if they did survive the Omega 4 Relay, Shepard would most certainly make good on her promise to put a bullet in the Illusive Man's head.

It only surprised Thane that she didn't put one in Dr. Archer.

Sitting on the couch next to her, Thane pulled her into his arms, and she buried her face against his chest. They sat there in silence until he'd lost track of time. The sound of EDI's voice announcing Garrus' presence at the cabin door pulled them both out of the near trance they'd settled into.

Shepard sat up and took a deep breath. "Let him inside, EDI."

A moment later, Garrus made his way downstairs, two bottles of alcohol in his hands. "I, uh … hmmm … I thought you might could use a drink."

She let out a soft scoff and chuckled, a weak smile easing into place. "A drink sounds good. There are some glasses over there," she said, pointing to a small bar in the corner.

Flicking a mandible, Garrus grinned and turned his attention to Thane. "You want one?"

"Ah, no. Thank you, but I generally don't consume alcohol … or other mind-altering substances for that matter." Thane offered him a wry smile. "I find the lack of certainty of what's happening in my environment unsettling, and I believe it might interfere with my medications."

"Right, sorry. I guess I should've thought about that." Garrus sat the bottles on the table and moved to the bar.

"No need." Thane offered Shepard an encouraging smile. "Please, don't allow my abstinence to prevent the two of you from enjoying yourselves."

* * *

Shepard lay with her head resting on Thane's thigh, hair draped over his lap. She held her glass tucked in against her ribs, the nearly empty bottle shoved between the couch and her other side. Legs stretched across the curve of the couch, bare feet resting on Garrus' knee, she laughed. Her face was flushed, speech slurred, but Thane knew she wasn't nearly as intoxicated as her behavior might lead one to believe. He wondered if she was putting on a show for Garrus' sake or her own, finding comfort in the ritual of drinking themselves into oblivion, even if she couldn't truly do so any longer.

"I'm telling you," she said, dissolving into a fit of giggles before continuing, "Dr. Michel has the hots for you." She used her foot to rock Garrus' knee. "You're her _hero_."

Garrus chuffed and threw his head back, draining his glass. "I think you're imagining things. But even if you're not, I've never, hmmm … I wouldn't even know where to start with a human. Not even sure I'd _want_ to start something with a human."

Scoffing, she pushed his knee a little harder. "What's wrong with humans?"

"How much time do you have?" he asked, voice dry, but the flutter of his mandibles belied the seriousness of his question.

She huffed and grinned. "Asshole."

"Seriously," Garrus said, looking at Thane, "I don't know how you do it."

Thane chuckled, and Shepard kicked the turian's knee before pulling her legs back to their side of the couch. Looking down at her, Thane ran the back of his finger along the side of her face and over her jaw. "How could I not? She is beautiful, clever, and kind. Fierce and noble." Smiling, he stroked her face again when she met his gaze, a soft blush tinting her cheeks. "She is strong, a fair and just commander who wields her weapons like the warrior-angel she is, and yet, she is so gentle." His smile shifted to a sly grin, and he said, "Not to mention, her lips are the sweetest of fruits, her skin the softest of silks, and when she calls out my name in ecstasy, I know what it means to be in the presence of the divine."

Her blush spread until her entire face and neck were nearly as red as her hair. "Jesus," she muttered before hiding her eyes beneath the crook of her arm.

Garrus let out a raucous laugh. "I think you broke her."

* * *

Garrus left, stumbling out of the cabin, and the door slid closed behind him. Thane turned away from the stairs and settled his gaze on Shepard. She still sat on the edge of the couch, staring into a near empty glass of alcohol. She seemed lost, in thought and in spirit, and it pained him to see. Returning to the couch, he sat down and settled his hand on her back, kneading absently at the tense muscles along her spine.

She glanced at him and smiled, but her eyes still held the hollow look of her uncertainty. "Hey," she said, voice soft.

"Tell me how I can help, siha." He reached up, cupping her face and brushing his thumb over her cheekbone.

Instantly, tears welled in her eyes. She set the cup on the table and turned into him, curling against his side. He wrapped his arm around her, holding her tight as she cried in silence. Feeling helpless, and knowing it worked to soothe her once before, he began humming the lullaby of his childhood.

After a few seconds, she chuckled and looked up at him, wiping away her tears. "I love you."

He smiled, delighted to see the darkness receding even if only a little. "And I you, Jane."

She climbed onto his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck and shoulders, resting her face against his frills. A moment later, she turned her head and kissed his cheek. "I think I could use some tea. And maybe something to eat. Come downstairs with me?"

"Certainly," he said, and then waited until she decided to actually get up nearly three minutes later.

* * *

"I just keep thinking about that poor man." She sighed, dropping the crust of her sandwich back on her plate and picking up her cup. "I can't understand how anyone …. How could he do that? His own _brother_?"

Thane took a sip of his tea and then set the cup down on its saucer. "I wish I had answers for you, but I'm afraid only he can say what evil possessed him to do such a thing." Resting his arms on the table, he turned a palm out for her hand, and she wrapped her fingers around his. "But you have given David a second chance at life. He may never forget his time being tortured by his brother, but neither will he forget you saved him and gave him the chance at a better life moving forward."

"Right … in a galaxy which is about to be at war with the reapers. What did I really make better?" Despite the hint of sarcasm to her tone, her eyes pleaded with him to give her something to anchor herself with.

Choosing his words carefully, he said, "Tonight, he sleeps in a soft, warm bed. Tomorrow, he will eat nutritious meals and take a hot shower. He will be able to move freely, stretch and exercise. He will be surrounded by people who wish only to help him. He will not be manipulated and forced into harmful, vile situations as he was when you found him. Instead, he will make friends and learn new skills. He will know laughter and kindness and love. It may not last as long as we wish, no one is ever promised an eternity of peace, but for now, peace is his. You gave him this, siha."

* * *

He held her close, breasts pressed against his chest, sheet twined around her hips. She nipped at the ridges along his cheek before darting her tongue out to trace the frills down his throat. He groaned, pushing deeper inside of her as she moved atop him. The shutters remained closed above them, and he knew she didn't wish to see the stars that night, not with her mind already so troubled. She clung to him, made love to him with a desperation which made his heart ache as much as swell with the depths of his adoration.

Tightening his grip on her, he rolled until she lay beneath him, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. He captured her lips and trapped one of her nipples between his fingers, pinching and tugging before palming her breast and kneading. Moaning, she arched her back, pushing herself into his palm, tongue dancing over his so warm and sweet. He rocked his hips, her slick heat tightening around him as she moved with his thrusts. The heels of her feet dug into his backside, pulling him in closer, deeper, encouraging him as he moved faster. She tore her mouth from his and sank her teeth into his shoulder, pulling a hiss from him.

Trying to make sense of her sudden aggression, he slowed to gentle strokes and asked, "Am I hurting you?"

"No," she said, voice hoarse as she pressed her face against his, preventing him from searching out her gaze. "But … I want you to."

"Siha?" He stopped moving altogether and shifted his weight off of her enough to turn his head and look at her.

She swallowed, her gaze flicking away from him to scan the darkness before darting back to his face. "Nevermind." She licked her lips. "I'm just being stupid." Grinding against him, she smiled and pulled at him. "Come on, don't stop."

He remained motionless nevertheless, waiting for her to meet his gaze again. When she finally did, he reached up and brushed the hair from her face before gathering it all into a fist at the back of her head. He tightened his grasp until a spark flashed in her eyes. "Tell me what you need me to do."

He would find a way to help her feel alive and whole again. Permanently. Whatever she needed. _He would find a way_.


End file.
